The Great War
by Cossacks250
Summary: He was just a young man. He had his whole life ahead of him, but he was to go and fight for King, country. Some OC's.
1. Prologue

**Note: I do not own Wall.E**

**Location: Barham, outside Dover, Britain**

The Sun setting on the horizon was an amazingly beautiful thing to see. The lush and beautifully green landscape of southeast England stood out perfectly to those who lived in it. The cool wind blew gently across the ground, making the grass sway like tiny spears. Leaves rustled quietly as the wind tried to blow them off of the branches. Usually it would work with almost no effort at all, but for this part of the year the leaves were attached tightly to the branches, as if not wanting to leave them, but they would have to soon when winter set in, but for now they could soak up the last of the Sun's rays on this perfect June evening.

In the village of Barham, It's people were going about their daily duties or were going out in couples for walks in the surrounding fields and woods. One couple, a 6ft tall man in his middle twenties dressed in a grey jacket and black trousers with black shoes, walked in hand with his fiancée, a pretty young woman in her early twenties dressed in a tunic and long narrow skirt that almost hit her feet which were in black laced shoes, down a pavement alongside a cobbled road that ran through the village. They went out a few times a week and tonight was the perfect night for going out because it was warm and there was a cool breeze blowing.

Nearby, a young man rode by on his bicycle. He was wearing a grey jacket with grey trousers and black shoes. He was seventeen years old and was about 5ft 10 with brown hair, blue eyes and a handsome face, apart from his rough cheeks and a small scar down the side of his nose, which he had attained in an accident several years earlier. His name was Wallace Francis Burtt, or Wally, which he preferred to be called, for short. He lived and worked on a farm not far outside the village with his brother, or who he saw as his brother, Hal, who was one year younger than him.

Wally rode out of the village and down the cobbled rode towards a small dirt path that led left from the road to a small farmhouse and stable not far away. He had just left his German lesson with Franz Adler, who was from Germany and ran a fruit shop in the village. They knew each other very well, mainly because Wally's 'father' had introduced them to each other not long ago when Wally was in his early teenager years and thinking about travelling around the world, and they got on very well. For at least an hour for almost every evening for the past three years he had been going to these German lessons Franz set up for him. At first, he found them quite boring and sometimes regretted that he and Franz knew each other, but now he sort of like did like them. He was not completely overjoyed to be in them or anything like that, but he was fonder of them now than he was a few years ago.

Wally rode off of the road and down the path towards the farmhouse. The farmhouse was more of a cottage, only it was slightly bigger than a normal one, as it did have two floors and an attic, with a front door, a back door and a small window a few feet from the right of the front door. Above the ground floor of the house were two more windows, one of which the room which Wally and Hal slept in and one for their 'parents'. Not far from the house, a few metres to the right of the house was a small stable made out of thick wood. A large door on the side of the stable led into the building. Scattered across the ground were several bags of oats for the horses and a wheelbarrow. A pitchfork was placed against the wall of the stable embedded in a small pile of hay.

Wally brought his bicycle to a halt and stepped off it. He walked with it behind the farmhouse and rested it against the wall near the back door, which was wide open. The smell of something cooking wafted out of the house. Wally caught it. It smelt strong of baking bread; no doubt they would have that along with whatever else they were having for dinner tonight.

Wally stepped inside the house into a small kitchen with a wooden dining table and five chairs in the middle of the room. A small flight of stairs near the far right hand corner of the kitchen led upstairs. On the left wall was a stove over a roaring fire. A woman dressed in an old dress with a white apron over the front was stirring something in the stove. It was his mother. She was much shorter than her son; about 5ft 5 with brown hair, green eyes and soft cheeks. Her name was Mary. She was about thirty five years old, but looked slightly younger. She turned to face Wally, having heard him walk in.

"Oh good, your home," she greeted.

"Hello, mother," Wally said, walking over to her and giving her a quick hug. "How's dad?" he asked as he let go.

"Oh he's fine," she replied. "He's upstairs asleep, his leg started bleeding again earlier on so I had to take him to the doctor's and they bandaged it and told him to rest."

Wally let out a weak smile but it quickly faded from his face. His 'father' had sustained an injury during fighting against the Zulus in Africa fifteen years earlier. Apparently, a Zulu warrior had struck him in the leg, taking off a chunk of it. This had affected his walking and he had to use a walking stick to get around. Also, he needed help if he was walking up or down a hill. It had a deep effect on his lifestyle because he used to be a runner before the fighting in Africa, and obviously now he could no longer run, and his leg would bleed if he knelt down or tried to run. Wally had felt sorry for his 'father' having to go through this pain every day. It seemed to get worse every year, but at least he was still alive.

"Where's Hal?" he asked Mary.

"He's outside in the stable with the horses," she told her son. "You wouldn't go and feed them quickly, would you?" she asked her son.

"Yes mother," Wally answered, nodding.

Wally walked outside and back around the house towards the stable. As he approached it, he could hear a voice talking from inside the stable, along with the sound of snorting. Wally shook his head and chuckled under his breath as he picked up the bag of oats and walked over to the stable.

"You're a pretty girl," the voice said. "You know that?"

Wally walked over to the doorway and looked inside. There were three pens along the right side of the stable, each containing a horse on a hay covered floor. A young boy was standing in front of the middle pen with his hands on the side of the face of a horse. He was sixteen years old and about 5ft 9 with black hair and a few hairs below his nose. He was dressed in a pair of old grey trousers with a straightjacket. It was his younger brother Hal, or he and his family saw him as a younger brother. The truth was both Wally and Hal were adopted. Wally's mother had died shortly after giving birth and so he was to live in a workhouse. When he was five, Mary and her husband had taken him as their son. Then, a year later, they adopted Hal as well because his mother had left him an unwanted child at the entrance to another workhouse not far from where Wally was. They had all grown close to each other, especially Wally and Hal as they always stuck out for each other, especially Wally for Hal because he was more adventurous and when he was little had said he wanted to be an explorer and travel across places like Africa and Australia. Obviously he had grown used to the fact that it was not going to be as easy as that as he got older, but that never stopped dreaming about it.

"I'll go and get some oats for you in a minute, darling," he said to the horse as he patted It's cheek.

"You going to give her kiss?" Wally inquired in a mocking, but not offensive, voice.

"Haha, very funny, Wally," Hal said as he looked at his brother who set down the bag of oats next to him. "At least I can make friends with horses,"

"Yes, but I don't act like I want to kiss one," Wally replied.

"Shut up," Hal replied as Wally started chuckling.

"Alright, we need to feed the horses before we go in for dinner," he said to Hal as he took a handful of oats and handed them to Hal.

"She'll like these," he said as he turned back to the horse. "There you go, girl," he said to the horse as it took them out of his hand and began eating them, the oats crunching loudly as the horse chewed on them.

Wally took another handful and held them in front of the horse in the first pen. The horse began eating at the oats, making another loud crunching sound. A few moments later, the horse finished eating them.

"Hey, Wally?" Hal inquired. His brother, who had taken another handful of oats, looked up at him. "Is dad still asleep?" he asked.

"Y-yes, why?" Wally replied.

"Why don't we take the horses out for a quick run," he suggested. "We can be back before dad wakes up,"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Wally said to Hal.

"Oh, come on," Hal moaned to his brother. "It'll only be for a few minutes,"

"Hal," Wally said, dropping the oats back inside the bag and folding his arms as if he were a parent. "Do you not remember what happened last time we decided to take the horses out for a run when we shouldn't have?" he asked his brother.

Hal looked away. He remembered very well when they had taken the horses out when they should not have. Last time, they had taken them for a run across the field, though that time Wally had agreed to do so, but when they got off to stand back up their old scarecrow in one of the fields, one of their horses, which was easily spooked by sudden sounds, went running off when the two were lifting up the scarecrow and Hal accidentally took off one of the arms in a loud snap. The horse had freaked out and ran across the field. Wally and Hal ran after it and it resulted in a chase that went across the field and down the cobbled road and into the village before it managed to calm down. Other than being out of breath, they made absolute fools of themselves in front of a whole crowd of people and, to add to their punishment, their father had exploded at the fact they had taken the horses out without his permission.

"Hal, I'm not taking the horses out again," Wally said sternly to his brother.

"Wally, don't worry. Dad will never find out this time," he replied.

"He probably won't have to because we'll most likely end up running another marathon," Wally said in an annoyed tone. "I can just imagine it in the village's papers." He raised his hands to add emphasis to his point. "_Farmer brothers chasing after horse for second time sparks another humorous show_!" he said.

"Oh you're so dramatic," Hal said to Wally.

"No, I'm just trying to stop dad from killing us!" Wally said sternly to Hal. "Now, I'm not going out there and you shouldn't either!"

"Well, I am," Hal said to Wally. "And you can't stop me,"

Hal walked over to the end of the stable and took one of the four saddles and a hackmore. He opened the pen to the second horse and stepped in and placed the saddle on the back of the horse and the hackmore over the face of the horse and tightened it.

"Last chance, Wally," Hal offered.

"Hal, we'll get in big trouble for this," Wally said to his brother, hoping to snap some senses into him.

"No we won't," Hal reassured his brother. "Just trust me, we'll be back before dad wakes up and he'll be none the wiser,"

"Hal we-"

Wally was cut off when he saw Hal climb onto the horse and stare patiently at him. After a few moments, he sighed and rubbed his hand across his face.

"Alright," Wally finally gave in to Hal. "But we only go out for a few minutes," he said, pointing at Hal to show that he was telling the truth.

"That's fine," he said.

Wally nodded, though still having a bad felling about this, and walked down to the edge of the stable and took another saddle and hackmore. He walked over to the first pen, opened it and placed the saddle on the horse's back and tightened the hackmore on the face of the animal. He opened the outside door to his pen and, by walking outside, Hal's pen. Hal pulled back on his horse's hackmore. The horse stepped backwards out of the stable. Wally did the same with his horse. The two rode off into the fields.

It was a fairy-tale. They had come out with the horses at the right time of day. The Sun had almost set behind the distant hills, filling the air with a beautiful field of colours from gold to dark pink/purple. Soon it would be night time and the stars would be coming out to fill the night sky with a beautiful display.

"We'll take them around the edge of the field once and then we'll head back," Hal said to Wally.

"You go on," Wally told him. "I'll wait here, just please be careful and don't be too long," he told Hal.

"Don't worry," Hal reassured him. "I'll only be a few minutes,"

Hal ride off across the field, his horse trotting slowly across the grass. Wally watched him and sighed and looked worryingly back at the farmhouse. He was worried that dad would wake up and find out they had taken the horses out without his permission.

_Dad'll kill us if he finds out about this! _Wally thought anxiously.

Hal scanned the scene as he rode across the edge of the field. The cobbled road was not far away from him. He smiled at the beautiful dusk sky as the Sun finally disappeared behind the hills.

_Picked a good time to take the horses out, _he thought relaxingly as he looked back at the field in front of him.

What the…? His eyes rested on a faint orange colour just visible through the grass. What was it? Hal pulled back on his horse's hackmore slightly, slowing the horse's trotting. He did not know what it was and he did not want to take the risk of walking right into whatever it was. Still, he was going to ride on past it and be at the ready just in case this thing was a threat.

The orange colour came closer with every step the horse took. Hal kept his eyes trained on the orange colour. What was it? It was obviously not the grass turning a different colour, so what was it?

_What is it? _Hal thought as he leaned forward slightly to get a better look at the orange colour.

Suddenly, as the horse came within a few feet of the orange colour it lunged towards the horse. It was a fox that had mistaken Hal and the horse for food. The horse neighed loudly and rose up on It's back legs. Hal yelled out as he fell off the horse onto the ground, his arm getting caught in the side of the saddle. The fox fled in panic, disappearing into the grass. The horse immediately ran forward in panic.

Wally heard Hal yell and looked back at him to see his horse run off across the field, with Hal being dragged along!

"Hal!" Wally shouted in fear for his brother.

He rode after his brother's horse, which was much faster than his and was already further ahead of them. Hal tried to release his hand from the saddle but his horse's running was stopping him. His feet were hitting the ground and each other a lot. His eyes watered as pain overtook his body.

Suddenly, a wooden fence not far ahead made him panic. The horse was heading straight towards it! It would jump over it, but he would end up crashing into it, and that was going to hurt, a lot. He had to free himself quickly!

Hal began pulling desperately at his hand in an effort to free it, but the horse's running was preventing him from getting any closer to freeing it. Hal began to panic more. If he did not free it within the next few moments, he would go crashing through the fence.

Wally urged his horse to run faster. As if by telepathy, the horse obeyed and ran faster. He had to free Hal's hand and fast before he hit the fence. His horse was not that far away now, just a few more metres. If his horse kept up with Hal's he could free him, only if nothing went wrong.

Wally's horse was now alongside Hal's. He reached out to release his hand.

"Hold still, Hal," Wally shouted to him. "I've almost got you,"

"Try telling that to the horse!" Hal shouted back.

Wally grabbed hold of the saddle. If he could raise it, then Hal's hand would be free. Now was the hard part, he had to actually raise it whilst holding onto his horse with other hand and trying to halt another that running faster than he could carry out his plan.

Suddenly, Wally almost fell off the side of his horse. Reacting to try and stay on, he grabbed hold of his hackmore and ended up pulling it towards him. His horse came to a sudden halt, causing him to go flying forward off of his horse onto the ground. Wally groaned as he lifted his head up from the ground. That hurt a lot.

CRASH! He snapped his head in the direction of the noise to see Hal's horse jump over the fence as if it presented no obstacle to it at all. However, Hal had not gone over the fence like the horse. Instead, he had gone right through it! Hal's body fell to the ground a few feet from the new hole in the fence line. His horse carried on running across the field that was on the other side of the fence line.

"Hal!" Wally shouted.

He ran towards his brother as fast as his legs would carry him. He had to see if he was okay! Wait, what if he was knocked out? Oh God, dad was going to kill them if he was!

Wally skidded to a halt and knelt down next to his brother.

"Hal?" Wally asked fearfully as he shook his brother by his shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Hal groaned and rubbed his forehead.

"Ow," he groaned as he sat up.

"Are you alright?" Wally asked his brother.

Hal nodded and rubbed his forehead again. That hurt a lot. He was surprised he had not knocked himself out or done himself any serious damage.

A snort drew the two's attention to the fence. Wally's horse rode up to the hole in the fence. One of the panels was lying on the ground along with one of the wooden beams. Two more were lying at an angle as they were still connected to other panels. Another had come right off and was lying about six feet away from the hole a few inches from Wally and Hal.

"Oh no," Wally muttered under his breath. "Dad's going to kill us,"

"What do we do?" Hal asked his brother.

"We'll have to fix it," Wally answered as he stood up. "Let's grab your horse and then we'll fix the fence and quickly head back home before Dad finds out where we are,"

Hal nodded. Wally turned to run after Hal's horse, but something stopped him.

Standing over him was an elderly farmer who was glaring down at him. He looked to be in his late fifties, but he heavily built and still managed to keep it despite his age. It was farmer Barnes, their next door neighbour. He was dressed in a straightjacket and old worn black trousers with a few holes around the knee caps. He was just over 6ft tall, which only added to his heavily built body. He was a veteran of the Second Anglo-Afghan war that took place just over thirty five years earlier and even though he was in his late fifties, he was not the type of person you wanted to annoy.

"H-hello, Mr Barnes," Wally stuttered.

Barnes raised his hand and placed a rope in Wally's. A horse trotted up behind him.

"I believe she's yours," he said before looking past Wally at the hole in his fence.

"What happened to my fence?" he asked in a calm, but easily recognizable as a dangerous tone.

"Um," Wally began. "We were, kind of. Well-"

"Spit it out, Wallace!" Barnes growled.

"Look, Mr Barnes!" Hal exclaimed, coming to Wally's rescue. "Please don't tell our father about this! We'll fix it right now if you want and we'll go back home and none of us will need to worry ab-"

"Oh rest assured," Barnes said in a dangerous whisper but was loud enough for Wally and Hal to hear. "The fence is the least of your worries. Wait until your father hears about this!"

**One hour later**

The sky had begun to turn dark even though it was still quite light. A few stars had already appeared in the east of the sky and were slowly coming into view across the west of the sky. It was beautiful and peaceful. If only it was though for a family who lived outside Barham village.

Wally and Hal had returned their horses to their stable and then had to help fix Mr Barnes' fence. That was bad enough, but they were late coming home and their father was getting worried about them. At first he was overjoyed to see that they were okay, but when he saw Mr Barnes step in through the back door with them and he told them what they had done, their father had, as Wally predicted, exploded.

"What the Hell do you two think you were playing at?" he shouted at them from his seat at the dining table. His cane was rested against the side of the table. "Taking the horses out without my permission! What the Hell is wrong with you!"

Their father, John, was a tall and heavily built man just like Mr Barnes, though he was slightly shorter and younger by about two years. He was dressed in striped pyjamas. He had a white bandage around his leg, which was just visible through his pyjamas leg.

"This is the second time you two have gone running off like a pair of monkeys and look what you've done," he said to Wally and Hal. "Not only did you…" he pointed at Hal. "Get hurt, but you also risked you lives because of this fox you saw and you've broken our neighbours' fence!"

"I would expect better from you two," Mr Barnes butted in. "You know, just be lucky you two have this freedom because when I was your age, and I'm probably saying the same for your father here, we had no freedom _at all_! You two are lucky to have this freedom and yet you go clowning about like a pair of monkeys!"

Wally and Hal looked at each other guiltily. They knew what they had done was wrong and they had to suffer the consequences for it.

"I cannot believe you two would do something like this!" John continued. "I did not expect you to tag along with your brother after what had happened last time you two took the horses out without my permission,"

"Dad, I tried to stop Hal!" Wally said, defending his position. "I'm sorry for going out without you knowing, and so is Hal. I only went out after him because I didn't want him to get hurt,"

"It doesn't matter why you went out, Wallace," his father snapped. "The point is you went out and look what you and Hal did!" he turned to face Mr Barnes. "Barnes, I am so sorry for what they did,"

"It's alright," he replied. "You two just need to start growing up!" he barked at Wally and Hal. "You're not children anymore, your young men but you clowning around won't get you anywhere in life! Let's hope this doesn't happen again!"

Mr Barnes walked out through the back door, closing it behind him.

"Dad," Hal piped up. "I'm sorry. I wasn't Wally's fault, it was mine. I dragged him into it. If anyone's to blame It's me,"

"That doesn't matter," his father replied. "Now you to go upstairs and think about what you've done, and take in Barnes' words. You need to start growing up,"

Wally and Hal nodded and walked past their father and up the stairs towards their rooms.

"John, dear," Mary said as the two disappeared from view. "You didn't need to be too hard on them,"

John sighed.

"I know Mary," he said as he rubbed his hand over his face. "I just don't want them to end up doing something that they'll regret. I worry about them,"

"I know, dear," Mary comforted her husband. "You love them, but you need to understand they won't grow up like we had to,"

"I know," John said. "But I just hope they won't get left behind when the other lads out there start growing up and doing what they wanted to do when they were older,"

**Later that evening**

The night had descended across the sky, filling it with the beautiful show of stars. The moon was just visible in the far off darkness, but it still shine brightly. It was the perfect night for a walk or a night out.

Wally, who was now dressed in stripped pyjamas, lay in his bed, looking out through his window at the stars. He sighed at their beauty. They were amazing, but he was still feeling guilty about what happened earlier. He was also angry at Hal. He had gotten them into trouble and Wally had not done anything, he was just trying to stop Hal from getting himself hurt. Well, his efforts earlier on were useless and look where they had landed him.

The door to the room opened. It was Hal. He was also dressed in bright pyjamas. Wally sat up and glared at Hal, who looked away as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. For a moment the room was engulfed in pitch black darkness. Then, as if a new, but quick, day had dawned, the light from a candle flame filled the room. It was coming from a candle on Wally's bedside table. Hal walked over with a candle in his hand but Wally did not bother to tilt the candle end towards Hal's. Instead, he just dropped it on the table and lay on his bed, glaring up at Hal. He sighed and lit his candle with Wally's.

"Look, I'm sorry, Wally," he said.

"You're sorry," Wally repeated. "Oh yes, you're sorry for getting us into trouble, with me not even doing anything wrong, breaking our neighbour's fence and almost seriously hurting yourself," he added sarcastically.

"Wally-" Hal began but Wally cut him off.

"You know, Hal, sometimes I really think that you love getting us into trouble. Do you know how angry dad was?"

"Of course I do!" Hal replied, his voice rising as well. "And just to let you know, I didn't intend in getting us in trouble! It was just a bit of fun,"

"And was this fun involving you almost breaking your neck and making dad angry?" Wally asked sarcastically." Wally sighed. "Sometimes, I really wish you weren't my brother,"

An upset look spread across Hal's face as Wally turned over so he would not have to look at him. He had really offended him. He did not intend to get him or Wally into trouble, it was just a twist of fate, but inside he really did feel guilty. He had gone against his father's wishes to take the horses out and look where it had landed them. He sighed and walked back over to his bed.

A guilty look spread across Wally's face. He did mean what he said to Hal. He loved him because he was his brother and it was a twist of fate that had landed them into trouble. He had even joined Hal in taking the horses out but had blamed him entirely, but it was partly his fault as well.

"Hal," Wally said as he turned over and sat on the side of his bed. His brother turned to face him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that,"

Hal smiled slightly.

"It's alright," he replied.

"I'm just thinking about what dad said," Wally continued. "We really do need to start growing up,"

Hal nodded slightly.

"We do," he muttered. "But it'll be hard doing so,"

The door to their room opened. It was their mother Mary dressed in a gown.

"Come on, you two," she said. "It's bedtime,"

"Yes, mother," Wally and Hal replied in unison.

Mary closed the door to their room. Wally blew out his candle and climbed under the covers of his bed. Hal climbed into his bed before blowing out his candle and setting it on his bedside table. He laid his head on his pillow and his eyes closed quickly and he descended into a deep sleep.

Wally turned over in his bed and looked once more at the star filled sky. It was beautiful. Each star looked as if it was a symbol of hidden beauty. He loved looking at them, especially in the summer when the sky was mostly clear at night. He closed his eyes and let the beauty drag him to sleep.

**Note: Burtt is the second name for Ben Burtt, the sound designer in Wall.E**


	2. Assassination

**The next day**

**Date: June 28****th****, 1914**

**Location: Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina.**

It was a bright sunny day over the city of Sarajevo, but even so no one was dressed in summer wear. In fact, many people were dressed in their best things. Men were wearing smart suits and shoes and women were wearing dresses with large flowery hats. The reason for all this; it was a special day for Bosnia's capitol Sarajevo. Today was the day that Archduke Ferdinand was coming to visit the city.

Archduke Ferdinand was a national celebrity in the Austro-Hungarian Empire; in fact he was a _royal_ national celebrity. He was the heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary. He had been the heir to the throne for the last twenty five years. His cousin, Duke Francis V of Modena, had died in 1875 when Ferdinand was just twelve. Ten years later, Ferdinand was named the heir to the throne. Since then he had married Sophie, Duchess of Hohenburg and had three children. Today, he and his wife were visiting Sarajevo.

Bosnia and Herzegovina were new territories to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Thirty six years earlier, the Austro-Hungarian armies took over the city and much of the surrounding territories of Bosnia and Herzegovina. However, it was not until 1908 when the territories were captured fully. Although the new territories were on the border of the powerful Islamic Ottoman Empire, division in their Balkan provinces were beginning to arise. Eventually, in 1912, the Balkan League nations, made up of Bulgaria, Serbia, Greece and Montenegro, took arms against the Ottoman Empire in the First Balkan War. In May 1913, the war came to an end and the Ottoman Empire was kicked out of the Balkans.

Many states expanded or were formed under the now free Balkan lands. One of these expanding lands was Serbia. It was the most powerful of the Balkan states and one that Austria-Hungary was jealous of. In fact, Serbia was not really the best of friends with Austria-Hungary either. This was probably because Serbia was allied to Russia, who was in turn allied to France and Great Britain. The Austro-Hungarians were allied to Germany and Italy. The worst nightmare for any leader had come into reality for Germany and Austria-Hungary. A fortress surrounded on all sides. Despite this, the Austro-Hungarian empire, old and withered from time and long past but also long lasting effects war, was determined to remain strong.

In the streets of the city, many people were gathered to welcome the arrival of their empire's prince. He had arrived earlier on and would be driven past with his wife Sophie.

"Isn't it amazing," one man, dressed in a black suit with black shoes, said as he brushed dust of his shoulder. "Prince Ferdinand! Here! I never thought this would happen,"

"I know," a nearby woman, wearing a navy blue dress and a flowery hat, replied. "Oh, I cannot wait to hear him in his speech!"

As the crowds of people readied themselves for their prince's arrival, several men, also dressed in suits, were also waiting for the prince of Austria-Hungary to arrive. However, they were not overjoyed like everyone else. They had a deep hatred for the Austrian prince. The reason; they were a group of Bosnian Slavs (people generally from the Balkans and Russia) who took upon themselves to kill the Austrian prince, and when they heard about today, they began planning their attack.

These men were being led by a man called Danilo Ilić, who was a member of the Black Hand secret society, which was formed three years earlier for the greater Serbia movement. It's aim was to unite the lands Austria-Hungary had freed but then taken for themselves, and what better way to strike a blow against your enemy by killing the heir to their throne.

Today, Danilo had placed members of the society either in group or alone along the street from which the Archduke's car would pass on It's way to the town hall. Every member was tasked with a pistol and/or a bomb, both of which they to use to stop the Archduke's car by any means necessary.

The first group, stationed outside a small café, was made up of a tall man with a shaven head and dressed in a black suit called Muhamed Mehmedbašić, who was a Muslim, and Vaso Čubrilović, also a tall man with a neat crop of black hair and two small tufts of a moustache and dressed in a black suit. Both were armed with a pistol and a bomb.

Further down the road, on the other side a few meters from the Miljacka River, was a solo member of the Black Hand. His name was Nedeljko Čabrinović who was also tall with short black hair, revealing most of his forehead, and two bushy tufts of a black moustache above his lips. He was also dressed in a suit and was also armed with a bomb and a pistol.

Finally, one last group of three was placed further down the road. It was made up of Cvjetko Popović, another tall man with short black hair and dressed in a suit, Trifko Grabež, a tall man also dressed in a suit with short black hair with a bushy moustache and a small black beard that covered part of his chin, and Gavrilo Princip with a messy crop of black hair and two small black tufts of a moustache. All were armed with a bomb and a pistol. They were to fire on the Archduke's car if it managed to pass through the other three stationed along the street.

Gavrilo looked back up and down the street, as if he was searching for his target. This was their only chance to get the Archduke. If they succeeded, it would mean a great victory against their Austrian enemies. He just could not wait. Part of him just wanted to hunt for the Archduke personally, but he was stopped by the amount of security and the great risk. Apart from the many policemen scattered throughout the crowd, he knew that if he attacked the Archduke before he had even passed Mehmedbašić, and Vaso, then the entire plan would be foiled and even if Gavrilo was just captured, the others would not fare much better in killing the Archduke.

Suddenly, as if awoken, the crowd began to clap and cheer. Gavrilo looked down the street and saw a car driving down towards him. It was a 1911 Gräf & Stift _Double Phaeton_. Driving it was a middle aged looking man with a moustache dressed in a smart army officer-like uniform. Sitting in the back seats was a pretty looking woman with brown hair in neat buns. She was wearing a cream dress. Even though she was 46 years old, she looked much younger, her mid-thirties even. Sitting next to her was the target. Archduke Ferdinand.

He was a tall middle aged man, about 50 years old, with a black moustache and short black hair. He was dressed in a smart high ranking army officer's uniform. He and his wife waved to the crowd as they passed. Gavrilo's determination to kill him began to grow. He desperately wanted to take aim and fire on the Archduke, but the great risk to the others and the high security stopped him. Gavrilo lowered his pistol but kept his hand on the bomb in his pocket. If the others were to fail, he would succeed.

However, he was not the only one who was itching to fire on the Archduke. Further up the road, Čabrinović was even more desperate to kill the Archduke than Ferdinand. He had even taken his bomb out of his pocket, but kept it out of sight under his suit's top to stop any nearby policemen from seeing it. In his other, he had his hand clutched tightly onto his pistol.

The Archduke's car came nearer and nearer. Čabrinović stared across the road at Vaso and Muhamed. They were to strike first. The Archduke's car was getting closer and closer to them. Čabrinović gritted his teeth behind his closed lips and breathed in as the Archduke's car was just a few feet up the road from them.

_C'mon_! he thought frustratingly. _Throw your bomb you idiot!_

Still, Muhamed did nothing. Čabrinović began to lose his patience with him, but what could he do? He could obviously not shout at Muhamed from across the road and he could not run across to him either. He was going to have to now rely on Vaso.

"C'mon, Vaso," Čabrinović muttered under his breath. "Do it! Quickly!"

However, Vaso did nothing as well. Not even when the Archduke's car was right in front of them, he did not throw his bomb or fire from pistol, neither did Muhamed. Čabrinović gritted his teeth in anger. Muhamed and Vaso had done nothing! Why? Oh that did not matter now! At least he would complete the task they had all been set. He was _not_ going to fail!

The Archduke's car had driven past the first two assassins and was now driving down the road, heading straight for Čabrinović. He gripped his bomb tighter and took out a small object from his pocket. It was a cyanide pill. He knew that this operation would cost him his life so rather than rot in an Austrian prison, he would die here along with the Archduke. He placed the capsule back in his pocket and began muttering under his breath the same words he had written in his diary journal earlier that day.

"I go now to complete my task. For my people, for my country, for my God," he muttered.

The Archduke's car was just meters away and closing. Čabrinović armed his bomb. He had only a few seconds to throw it before it detonated. He had one chance only. He had to get it on target. His target was getting closer and closer. He was within range.

"_ZA SRBIJA!" _(FOR SERBIA)

Suddenly, a small object was hurled through the air, heading straight for the Archduke's car. The object hit the back of the car, bouncing off the folded back convertible and landed on the road behind the car.

BOOM! It exploded.

Suddenly, everyone was screaming and diving for cover. Sophie and Ferdinand ducked down in their car seats, fearing another explosion would erupt at any second. The driver of the Archduke's car slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car sped forward down the road. Gavrilo, Cvjetko and Trifko watched in disbelief as the car shot past them up the road, no longer in range of their bombs or pistols.

"Look, someone is in the water!" someone further down the road from them shouted.

The three turned to see a figure lying in the shallow water of the Miljacka River. It was Čabrinović. On the road above him, policemen were running down the steps to a small dock that would normally lie alongside the river's water. However, the water level in the river now was just a few inches deep, hardly the perfect getaway through swimming.

Čabrinović, however, was not planning on escaping. He knew perfectly well that he would rather die than rot in prison, so, other than the cyanide pill, he planned to jump into the Miljacka River just to make sure he did die in case his pill failed. He had already swallowed his pill, but the river's low water level was not on his side. His pill was the only thing saving him from prison now.

"Stop!" a policeman shouted as he reached the small dock and stepped down into the three to four inch high water of the river and began running towards Čabrinović.

Their target, however, did not make any attempt to run. Instead, he was heaving and gagging. Everything around him was spinning. Čabrinović began to stumble and he fell over into the water, soaking his suit and the back of his hair. He began to feel really sick.

Then, with a loud yell, he vomited into the river, turning the water around him a sickening display of colours. He took a deep breath, only to vomit again.

Suddenly, the policeman grabbed him and dragged him, probably because he was weak from his failed suicide pill, towards the dock. A few other policemen hoisted him up onto the dock and pulled him up the steps back to the road and off towards a nearby police car. A crowd had gathered around them and began shouting insults and swearing at Čabrinović. He was too sick to care, or even hear them and he placed his hand over his mouth to stop himself from vomiting again.

Gavrilo, Trifko and Cvjetko watched as Čabrinović was dragged away by the police. They were all angry, but Gavrilo was above angry. He was furious. Their one chance to get at the Archduke and they had failed! This was a major defeat to Serbia. Not only had they let their target escape, but now it was another obstacle that would most likely take months, even years to overcome for their country.

Gavrilo stormed off away from Trifko and Cvjetko towards a nearby corner food shop just across from the Latin Bridge. He was going to need something to calm his nerves.

**Minutes later**

**Sarajevo town hall**

Minutes had passed since the attempted assassination on the Archduke's life. News was quickly spreading amongst the local population about what had just happened. Many people, the assassins themselves making up some of them, however, believed that the threat was over and the Archduke was safe.

At the town hall of Sarajevo, a large crowd had gathered in front of the building and was listening to Mayor Curcic's speech. A car pulled up near the town hall. In it was the Archduke, his wife and the driver. Although they were unharmed, Ferdinand had blood on his uniform. He was furious, not about his uniform of course but of what had just happened. This was supposed to be a visit that he was assured many times was safe, and what happens? He and his wife are almost killed by a terrorist and now many other people were injured. He had one or two things to say to the mayor about this.

Ferdinand threw open his car door and stepped out, slamming it behind him. He walked up the side steps of the town hall towards the mayor. Many people were gasping and/or pointing in his direction. Following close behind him was his wife, Sophie.

The mayor was about to continue on from finishing a sentence when he saw Ferdinand and his wife walking towards him.

"Archduke Ferdinand!" the mayor said in a surprised tone. "I did not expect to see you here this ea-"

"Mr Mayor!" Ferdinand interrupted in a furious tone as he stopped next to the mayor. "I came here on a visit and I get bombs thrown at me! It is outrageous!"

"Franz, dear," Sophie said as she rushed over to her husband to try and calm him down.

She whispered something into his ear. There was a slight pause. Then, Ferdinand looked back at the mayor, who looked calm but was worried as if Ferdinand was going to harm him.

"Now you may speak," he said to the mayor.

The mayor breathed a quiet sigh of relief and turned to face the crowd again and began to speak again.

"Bring me my speech," Ferdinand said to his driver, who had just reached them.

He nodded and walked back over towards the car to carry out his leader's order.

"What are we to do now?" Sophie asked her husband, keeping her voice low so not to attract any attention. "There could be more assassins waiting for us in the city,"

"I know," Ferdinand replied, also in a quiet voice. "Therefore, we shall abandon what we originally had planned and instead visit those in the hospital and then leave,"

"I hope we do leave," Sophie muttered under her breath.

**Meanwhile, near the Latin bridge**

In a small food shop near where the bomb had gone off, word had quickly spread of the attempted assassination of the Archduke. Many people both inside the building and out were talking about what had happened and the usual things of when something like this happens; who was responsible? Why was it happening and, most importantly, was another attack going to happen?

For one man, that was something he wanted to do very, very much.

After losing the opportunity to kill Archduke Ferdinand, Gavrilo had stormed into the shop and had been here since. Although he was angry, and doing very little to hide it, no one seemed to notice, or even care. Not even when he ordered wine and he snatched the bottle and the glass out of the server's hand and slammed his money down on the counter, it all went unnoticed.

Gavrilo, sitting at a small table near the front window, took another sip of wine from his glass. He still had his bomb and pistol with him, but both were concealed beneath his suit. He was still angry, though the alcohol had calmed him down a bit, but he was also worried. What would the failure of the mission hold for the Black Hand, or for Serbia? He had failed to carry out his duty and now it would stick with him for the rest of his life. He would most likely be thrown out of the Black Hand, even though the Archduke's car speeding past him at a fast speed prevented him or Trifko or Cvjetko from acting. At least he was not the first who failed to act. He could only imagine what would happen to Vaso and Muhamed when they returned back to the Black Hand's headquarters.

**The town hall**

"As I see in you all an expression for your joy at the failure of the attempted assassination against me and my wife," Ferdinand said. "Thank you, everyone,"

The crowd clapped and cheered as Ferdinand's speech ended. He walked back towards his car with Sophie, his driver and several policemen with him. Rather than tour around the city, they were going to the hospital to visit those who had been wounded in the bomb's explosion. As he approached his car, one his bodyguards walked up alongside the Archduke.

"Sire, we have searched the area, but have found no trace of the assassins," he said.

"That is worrying," Ferdinand replied.

"Which is why I would deem it wise to allow us to take up protective positions around your car, sire," the bodyguard suggested. "You will be much safer then, my lord,"

"Thank you, Harrach," Ferdinand said. "I just hope they do not attack us again,"

**Later that morning**

Gavrilo stood up from his seat, not bothering to pick up the wine bottle or glass to take back to the counter, and walked over to the door. He threw it open and walked outside. The Sun beamed down hard on him. He sighed in frustration and raised his arm over his head and walked away from the shop onto the pavement, passing two men who were smoking cigarettes.

He sighed and looked down at his hand through his unbuttoned suit. In it was his pistol. Was there any point in keeping it now? The Archduke was not going to come past him again. His one chance of killing him had failed. He could only imagine the consequences that were in store for him and the others who had failed to act against the Archduke.

Suddenly, the sound of a car screeching to a halt caught his attention. He looked up, as did the two men smoking behind him, to see a 1911 Gräf & Stift _Double Phaeton _stopping at an angle in the middle of the road. Two other cars, also Gräf & Stift's but had armed policemen and bodyguards in them, came to a halt behind the first. Some of the policemen got out and began shouting to the driver of the first car. A few pedestrians also stood by and watched at what was unfolding.

Then, a familiar person leant forward in the back seat of the first car. Gavrilo saw him and looked at him. His eyes widened. Hope returned to him like a chance of victory arising from the ashes of defeat. It was him. It was Archduke Ferdinand! Gavrilo had his pistol with him. It was loaded. Now was his chance.

He rushed forward towards the first car, pushing a bystander to the ground. A policeman in the second car saw him and shouted to him, pointing towards him. Other policemen and bystanders saw Gavrilo running towards the first car and shouted at him, but he did not listen. This was his chance. His target was not even noticing what was happening behind him. Gavrilo raised his pistol and placed his finger on the trigger.

Finally, the driver of the Archduke's car turned to talk with his leader. At once, he caught sight of Gavrilo, and his pistol!

"My lord, look out!" he shouted, pointing at Gavrilo.

The Archduke and his wife turned to see what their driver was warning them about. Just as they did, Gavrilo's pistol was aimed directly at them and he pressed down on the trigger.

Everyone screamed and dived for cover once again as two gunshots filled the air. The bullets zoomed towards the Archduke and Sophie. Ferdinand yelled out as the first bullet struck him in the chest. He collapsed onto his seat. The second bullet struck Sophie in the stomach, making her scream out in pain as she too collapsed onto her seat. Amazingly both remained seated upright even though they had been shot.

"NOO!" a policeman yelled. "The Archduke and Duchess have been injured!"

Before Gavrilo could assess the damage he had inflicted, a group of policemen grabbed hold of him and dragged him away. Gavrilo put up a struggle but he stood little chance against a group of heavily built policemen. Just as he was outside the food shop, he took one last look back at the firs car. He saw the driver of the Archduke's car start the vehicle, which now had several more policemen in it, and drive off, turning left into another street and disappearing from view.

Gavrilo smiled as he dragged away. Even though he had not seen it fully, he knew he had carried out his duty, and succeeded.

As the Archduke's car sped down the street of Sarajevo, Ferdinand weakly moved his blood covered hand onto his wife's, who was now leaning at an angle in her seat.

"S-Sophie!" he said weakly. "Sophie! D-don't die! Live for our children!"

The car turned into another street. One of the policemen leant forward towards the Archduke.

"How bad is the pain, sire?" he asked.

"It is nothing," the Archduke replied. "It is nothing,"

He repeated those three words six or seven times before he could speak no more. Blood began to pour from the wound on his chest. The policeman began to panic.

"Hurry, can you not drive faster?" he half-shouted at the driver.

A few minutes later, the car came to a halt outside a large building with a cube main section, a dome-like roof and several stone-like pillars along the front entrance of the building. The entire building was a dark white colour with a beautiful garden before the building and a large iron gate that led to the building. There was an amazing display of colours from the many different flowers that were grown in the garden. They had arrived at the governor's residence.

"Hurry!" the driver ordered as he jumped out of the car and opened the back door for the policemen as they carried the heavily bleeding and still alive, but only just, Archduke from the car and rushed with him towards the building.

"How is the Duchess?" the driver asked one of the two policemen who had remained behind to keep an eye on her. "Is she alive?"

The policemen placed a finger on her pulse. He stopped, as if frozen, for a second before he patted the side of her face several times to wake her. After a few moments, he sighed and looked sadly at the driver.

"She is dead," he said.

Grief filled the policemen and the driver. No! Their Duchess had died. Oh, the Archduke was going to very upset by her death.

The driver rushed towards the governor's residence to check up on the Archduke.

**Ten minutes later**

The Archduke lay in the governor's bed, whose sheets were now stained red with blood, as was much of his uniform. He was gasping for breath and had his hand in the doctor's who was sitting beside him. The driver and several policemen and bodyguards, as well as the governor himself, a medium heighted man with a grey moustache and a shaven head and was dressed in a new suit he had bought a few days ago.

"Will he live, doctor?" the governor asked him hopefully.

"I…I cannot say," the doctor replied, sounding as if he would break down. "I do not know if he can be saved,"

"He must be!" the driver exclaimed. "He cannot die! He cannot!"

The Archduke let out a weak cough and a gasp for breath. Then, he went quiet and did not move. The doctor gasped quietly and placed a hand on the Archduke's head. At once, any hope of saving him was gone. He moved his hand away from the Archduke's head and sniffed loudly.

"He's gone," he said, loud enough for everyone else in the room to hear.

Archduke Ferdinand, the heir to the Austria-Hungary throne, was dead. The Black Hand had succeeded.


	3. A chance to grow up

**Two week later**

It was another sunny day for the southeast of England. The leaves were once again rustling loudly as the cool breeze blew onto them. A few birds sang loudly as they flew effortlessly against the wind. Out in the many farm fields around Barham, the horses and cows were grazing. Another perfect summer day in the first weeks of July.

Cycling down the road again was Wally. He was again wearing grey trousers and a grey jacket with black shoes. Clapped under his arm was a folded newspaper. He had ridden down into the village to deliver some fruit to Franz, who was leaving for Germany in a few days to visit his father, and, just as he was leaving, had spotted a newspaper on Franz's shop counter which held a picture of the Archduke Ferdinand's body being brought out on a stretcher and a headline above it saying **Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary assassinated in Sarajevo**. Franz had allowed Wally to take the newspaper and now he was heading home to show his father.

Wally turned left off the cobbled road and onto the dirt path that led to his farmhouse. When he reached the farmhouse, he braked on his bike and it skidded to a halt. He walked with it behind the farmhouse and rested it against the wall and walked inside through the open back door into the kitchen. His father, who was now dressed in a pair of old grey trousers and an old grey top, was sitting at the table foraging through a small box on the table. In it were a few bandages. His crane was resting against the side of the table.

"Ah, Wally," his father said as he turned to see his son walk in. "Did you deliver the fruit to Franz?" he asked him.

"Yes, father," Wally replied. "And whilst I was there, I saw this on the newspaper and Franz let me have it,"

He unfolded the newspaper and passed it to his father. His father reached into his breast pocket and took out a pair of reading glasses and put them on. He 'hmmed' in surprise as he read the headline and the following article.

"Oh, dear," he said. Wally took another seat up next to his father and sat down. "It says here that Archduke Franz Ferdinand, aged fifty and heir to the Austria-Hungary throne, was assassinated along with his wife Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, whilst they were visiting Sarajevo,"

"Sorry, dear?" a woman's voice said from the stairs.

Wally and John, his father, turned to see Mary, dressed in a small cream dress, standing at the stairway.

"What were you saying, dear?" she asked as she walked over.

"I was reading the article from this newspaper," John answered. "It said here that Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, both from Austria, were assassinated in Sarajevo."

"Where's that?" Mary asked.

"In Bosnia, I think," John replied. He continued reading. His eyes stopped on a small article below a subheading that read **Austrian ultimatum**. "Wow," he said. "The Austrians have sent an ultimatum to Serbia, which was where the assassins are said to have come from. It…also says that because Serbia is allied to Russia and Austria is allied to Germany, there have already been several threats from both sides to each other of mobilization of their troops for war." John concluded.

Mary looked worryingly up at her husband.

"I don't like the idea of this happening," she said. "Do you think it could come to war?" she asked.

"It could do," John replied in a toneless voice. Then, a small smile etched across his face and it quickly grew. "Wait a minute," he said. He turned to Wally. "This could be the perfect for you and Hal," he said.

Wally was taken by surprise from what his father was saying to him.

"What, us going over to Serbia or Austria?" he asked in a worried tone.

"No," his father replied. "I mean, what is happening right now. I remember a long time ago, you probably wouldn't have been born by this point, France and Russia signed a treaty to aid each other in the event of war. We joined them not long after. Germany and Austria formed an alliance between themselves with Italy and Austria's not really best friends with Serbia. Don't you see, if Austria declares war on Serbia, then that means they and Germany will go to war with Russia, which will lure us and France into it as well. This is the perfect opportunity for you and Hal to finally start growing up and becoming men!"

Wally went wide-eyed, but then, amazingly, he nodded and a smile crept across his face. He-he like this idea. His father was right. Maybe this was the best hope for him and Hal to start growing up and becoming men. Yes! It was perfect!

"It's a good idea," he said.

"Of course it is!" his father declared loudly, slamming the table with his hand in happiness. "What do you think, Mary?" he asked her.

"Well, personally I don't like the idea of going to war," she said. "But it is your choice. I'll bring Hal down,"

"Don't worry, I'll get him," John said.

He took the cane in his hand and pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the stairs. Wally moved into his father's seat so he was now sitting next to his mother.

"You seem worried, mother," he said to her, keeping his voice low so his father would not hear him.

"I am," she replied. "I'm worried about you and Hal. As much as I agree with your father about this being a perfect idea for you two to become men, I'm worried that you might not come back."

"Hal!" John shouted up the stairs. "Come down here!"

"I'm coming," Hal's voice replied from upstairs.

"Mother, we'll be fine," Wally reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll be back home before you know it,"

"But what if you don't?" his mother asked him. Wally did not reply to her question. "You must understand, Wally. These aren't the Zulu or Islamic tribes of Afghanistan you're fighting. These aren't natives armed with swords or spears. These are Europeans armed with artillery and planes and proper fighting weapons. You have more chance of dying in this conflict,"

Wally moved his hand from his mother's shoulder and was lost in thought. She was right. If there was to be war, these were no natives of Africa or Islamic tribes or Pacific tribes or anything like that they were going up against. These were Europeans who may not have had an empire as large as Great Britain, or a powerful navy. However, they did have powerful weapons and they could be, or even be more than a match for the armies of Great Britain, even if the Commonwealth nations sent over many troops to help.

The sound of feet hitting steps filled the air. Wally and Mary turned to see Hal walking down the steps into the kitchen.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Grab a chair and sit next to your brother," John said.

Hal did so. John cleared his throat.

"Hal," he said. "You and Wally must prepare for war,"

Hal went wide-eyed.

"What are you talking about, dad?" he asked.

"Read the paper on the table," John answered.

Hal took the paper on the table and read the article. Like his father and Wally, his eyes went wide as well. He could not believe that an heir to the throne of a European empire had been assassinated, nor could he believe that Austria-Hungary had sent their ultimatum to Serbia and that mobilization and war both seemed imminent.

"Wow," Hal said as he set the paper back down on the table. "I…I can't believe it," he continued. "It's…It's breath taking."

"But it is also amazing!" John exclaimed happily once again. "Do you two not see? This is the perfect opportunity for you two to grow and finally become men! All those years of you acting like children can now be erased by your service to our country. And you will especially like this, Hal. For you have said you wanted to go on adventures across foreign lands, well now your wish has come true. Although it may not be Africa or the Pacific or Australia, it is a good starter for what you could achieve in the future." John concluded.

Hal beamed like the Sun. An adventure, and one in war! Oh that would be one that was not worth missing! It would be the best time of his life!

Hal shot up from his seat, knocking it over, with a big smile on his face.

"I'll do it," he said.

"Wonderful!" John said. "Wally, what about you?" he asked him.

Everyone's eyes were now looking at him, waiting for his decision. After a second, Wally stood up from his seat. He smiled and nodded.

"I will go as well," he said.

John looked as though he could have kissed his two boys.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, louder than ever, as he embraced his two boys in a tight hug. "Oh, I am very proud of you two! You will finally become men!"

Mary smiled and stood up as well.

"I'm proud of you two, boys," she said. "I think this will be the perfect opportunity for you,"

"Thank you, mother," Hal said as John released them. "Oh I can't wait!" he said like an excited schoolchild. "This will be the best adventure ever! I hope it comes quickly!"

"Do not worry, Hal," John reassured his son. "It will come in time,"


	4. Joining up

**August 5****th****, 1914**

Another good day had dawned on southern England, though today it was partially cloudy but otherwise still sunny. However, a storm was forecast for later so many people in Barham were rushing to get whatever they needed done outside done before it started to rain.

In the farmhouse outside the village, Wally and Hal were already dressed even thought it was still quite early. They were preparing to leave and wait at the end of the dirt path for a horse cart taxi to arrive and take them to Dover, where many other men were heading to sign up into the army.

Earlier last night, the whole nation has broken out in celebrations as at 11pm last night, Britain declared war on Germany. Up until last night since the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand just over a month ago, it had been hectic for the European powers.

Tensions that had mounted over the assassination between Russia, Austria-Hungary and Serbia had increased rapidly. Mass mobilization had not helped either. Eventually on July 28th, one week ago, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. In turn, Russia declared war on Austria-Hungary. Germany, in turn to defend her ally, declared war on Russia, and just yesterday had declared war France and Belgium.

The last few days, however, had been the most tense and dramatic. Britain was allied with Belgium and respected her neutrality with conciliation, as did France. Germany, however, knew that Belgium was vital in their attack on France. The German high command had sent a request of military access through the country to attack France, giving them twelve hours to reply. King Albert of Belgium replied in less time, refusing to allow the German army across his borders. Now, an innocent little country would be dragged into the conflict, but Belgium was still going to a thorn in Germany's side.

The German army had been split in two. One force, comprising of just several hundred thousand troops, was to face Russia along the Eastern Prussia frontier whilst the majority, a total of at 1.5 million men, were to take part in a large offensive operation. The plan was to sweep across Belgium, which would now have to be invaded rather then passed through, take over the English Channel ports, which would prevent the British from landing on the continent, move around Paris and attack the main French armies that were entrenched in their fortresses along the French-German border. Nicknamed the 'Schliffen Plan', it was to last six weeks and knock France out of the war so the German army could then be used to defeat the Russians, but with the German army split in two if either front collapsed, if Russia broke through or the 'Schliffen Plan' failed, then Germany would be defeated in a matter of days, weeks if they were lucky.

However, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany quickly realised that although Germany and France were at war and that the French had their armies were stationed along the borders of Alsace-Lorraine, now under Germany's control since they had been taken in the Franco-Prussian war over forty years earlier, he was convinced the French would not attack, and Britain, who part of the alliance with France and Russia, would not take part in the war unless Belgium was invaded. Seeing victory, or at least a chance against Russia, he declared that Russia was the only country they needed to fight.

Time, however, had eluded him. As he declared that Germany's only worry was Russia, the first patrols of the enormous German army to battle France were already entering the neutral countries of Belgium and Luxembourg. Britain, responding to defend their allied nation, threatened war but still word had not reached the army for them to retreat and last night, the last major power was thrown into the fighting pit.

Britain declared war on Germany.

The next morning, the entire nation had woken up in a frenzy of activity. Men and women were signing up to be sent to the continent and defeat the German war machine for trampling over 'poor little Belgium'.

In the farmhouse, the banging of a crane hitting the stairs filled the air as John moved down them into the kitchen. He was still dressed in his stripped pyjamas. He smiled when he saw his two boys, fully dressed in smart black trousers, shoes and coats.

"Look at you two," he said as he moved over to them and admired them. "It's as if your men already,"

"Thank you, dad," Wally replied.

John smiled again.

"I just want to say; I'm really proud of you two," he said. "You're finally growing up and what's more, you're carrying out your duty to our country," He sighed. "What more could a man ask for his sons,"

"Oh, I can't wait," Hal said excitedly. "I wish we were in Dover already."

"So do I," Wally replied.

"Well, you two best be on your way," John said to them.

Wally and Hal nodded and walked out through the back door.

"Make me proud boys," John said to them.

Wally and Hal looked back at their father and nodded again and walked off around the house and across the ground towards the dirt path.

"I hope the taxi's here early," Hal said. "I can't wait to get to Dover,"

"Take it easy, Hal," Wally eased his brother's excitement. "We'll get there,"

The two walked down the path towards the cobbled road. They stopped and Hal began frantically looking up and down it, searching for the horse cart taxi. Oh where was it? Where was it?

"Where is it?" Hal asked himself worryingly. "I hope It's coming,"

"Hal, just calm down," Wally reassured his brother, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, it is coming and before you know it, we'll be in Dover,"

Hal looked at his older brother with a worried look for a moment before he smiled.

"Yeah, your right, Wally," he said. He looked left up the cobbled road. "Oh wait, here it comes!" he exclaimed.

Wally looked down the road. Coming towards them was a large brown horse that was pulling a cart behind it. A short stubby man was sitting at the front of the cart, holding onto the reins that were attached to the hackmore. The horse snorted loudly as it approached the two. When it reached them, the short man pulled back on the reins.

"Whoa, boy," he said, bringing the horse to a halt as if it were obeying his command. "You two the young lads I've come to pick up?" he asked Wally and Hal.

"Yes, sir," Wally answered.

"Hop on then," the man replied.

Wally and Hal walked around the horse and climbed onto the seat at the front of the cart. The man shook the reins and the horse walked on down the cobbled road towards the village.

"He's a nice horse," Hal, who was sitting next to the man, said nicely, making him smile.

"Name's Boris," the man replied. "He's a fast one an' all. Apparently, he's descended from English horse and an Arab 'orse brough' back from the Crusades," the man leaned forward and patted the back of the horse. "Like me own flesh and blood, he is. You two got any horses?" he asked them.

"Yes, one girl and two boys," Wally replied. "We had a disaster a few weeks ago when we accidentally broke our neighbour's fence whilst ridding them,"

"Oh dear," the man replied. "I bet he weren't very 'appy. Anyway, where ya two heading to today?" he asked them.

"Dover," Wally answered.

"Le' me guess, to sign up into the army?"

"Yes,"

"That's no surprise to me. I've 'ad three visits from two different villages to Dover." The horse cart entered the village and the three were instantly overshadowed by the many houses and shops. People walked to and from them, still going about their daily business but had the war on their minds. "Firs' was from another farm about three miles away, takin' a boy and his friend. Then another taking a husband, some fellow from up near Birmingham who had recently moved down 'ere. All of 'em saying they were going to sign up into the army, to fight the Boche and drive 'em back to Germany." The man turned to face them. "The two boys were young 'un's, just like you two. Couldn't have been no more than six'een, seven'een years old,"

Wally took in the man's words. Wow, it seemed he and Hal were not the only ones who were young and going to sign up into the army. Question was; how many more young men like them were going to be sent off to fight in this new war? By the sounds of this man's stories of taking three young men to Dover in the first few hours of daybreak since war had been declared, it was going to be a lot.

"Well, me 'opes go out to you two boys," the man said to them. "I 'ope you two get into the army to kick the Boche back to Germany,"

"Thanks," Hal replied. "I can't wait. It'll be just like an adventure and It'll be one that I won't ever forget!"

"No you certainl' won'," the man told Hal. "Word is I've 'eard that our BEF force if preparin' to be sen' abroad to fight the Boche and preven' 'em from capturin' France. Well, we'll kick 'em out for walking over 'poor little Belgium' and show 'em how we British fight,"

Hal and Wally felt triumph rise through them like water filling up a tank. This man's words was raising their morale. Huh. He should be an officer in the army. Everyone would inspired by him to fight the Germans and drive them out of Belgium and back into Germany.

Well, soon Wally and Hal would be joining the many thousands in signing up into the army to fight.

**British Military Headquarters building, London**

It was a dull and grey day in London. It looked like it was going to rain but everyone was outside despite the colour of the sky and the fact that it was still early in the morning. Most of the people out now were many young men lined up along street pavements, the front being outside the enlisting office. This was quite common around London this morning. Soon many of these young men would be sent across the English Channel to France.

Further up the road from one of the many enlisting offices was the British Military Headquarters building. It was a large cube shaped building with large cylindrical pillars rising up from the top of a set of marble steps to a curved front roof, making it look like an old Ancient Greek temple. Behind the pillars was a pair of large brown doors that led into the main foyer. Many corridors and stairs led to different parts of the building.

In one room, on the top floor at the back of the British Military Headquarters building, which was a large square shaped room with a fancy carpet, a portrait of King George V standing in a room covered with expensive furniture dressed in a robe and a military officer uniform with a sword placed on the ground and being held there by his hand on the back wall, a window that showed a perfect view of the surrounding area of London and several expensive looking chairs in front of a desk.

Sitting behind the desk was a heavily built man with a bushy moustache and dressed in a military officer's uniform. He had black hair but it had several grey patches. His name was Lord Kitchener, the Secretary State of War for Britain. He had one hand placed on his face in front of his mouth and the other drumming on the desk. He had a look of worry on his face.

The door to the office opened and a young woman dressed in a short dress walked in. She was carrying a few pieces of paper.

"Good day, sir," she said as she walked up to the desk and handed Lord Kitchener the pieces of paper. "We have confirmed reports that all of the enlisting offices around London have recruits signing in by the hundreds," she told him

"Thank you," Kitchener replied, forcing a smile onto his face.

The woman turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Kitchener alone in the room again. The worried look came back upon his face like a creature that had been hiding from a predator and had come out of It's hiding place as the predator moved on. He was concerned, but why was he? He had spread the message that young recruits should sign up and prepare to fight in the war and he was even on the many propaganda posters with him, or mostly his face with a finger pointing ahead of him, with lines such as _Your Country needs you _and _Britons, Join your country's army. God save the king. _These posters showed a confident Lord Kitchener and his pointing hand gestured to all young men who were reading these posters as if urging them to join up in the fight against Germany.

However, behind all the posters and famous speeches he had made about young men joining the war and the conflict being short and the Germans being defeated quickly, Hood was concerned, worried even. What he, and probably several other senior commanders, knew very well was that this war would not be quick as he had predicted. He knew that it would not be over by Christmas and it would in fact last beyond Christmas and probably beyond one or two Christmases after that. He knew that this war was not being fought against African Zulus or Arabic tribes in the Middle East or Afghanistan. This was against another European power and what was more; it had been almost a century since the British Expeditionary Force had been sent across the Channel to fight a continental war. If Britain was to lose It's army in the coming fight then there would be no hope of ever getting back onto the mainland for Britain ever again.

How long this war would last, Kitchener could not tell, but he did hope it did not last long.

**Dover, south east England**

In the busy streets of Dover, the port city was seeing a very similar scene to those in the streets of London. Along many street pavements, there were large groups of young men lined up outside the enlisting offices scattered around Dover. Many of them were young, about seventeen or eighteen but there were quite a lot of sixteen year olds here as well. However, they would have more trouble getting into the army. They were two years too young to be signed up but that did not diminish the hopes of them fighting for their King and country.

Outside an enlisting office near the centre of the city, a horse cart pulled on the cobbled road. Sitting next to the short man on the front seat was Wally and Hal. They climbed off and Wally paid the driver a few shillings.

"Thank you," he said.

"It's alrigh'," the driver replied. "Good luck boys," he added before he rode off, disappearing into the crowds like a ghost.

"C'mon, Wally," Hal said. "Let's join the line,"

Wally nodded and joined his brother as they joined a line of young men, numbering about thirty and most aged around about Wally or Hals' age, that were standing outside a wide building that had been built between a clothes shop and a gun's shop. The thirty other men had been waiting for about ten minutes now as the hall was filled up with other young men. Every now and then, the door to the building would open and a young man would walk out. When the door did open, all the young men would turn their heads towards it, hoping it was an officer who would come out and tell the men to enter the building.

"Can you believe it?" Hal asked Wally as he drew a deep breath. "We're finally growing up. Soon we'll be training in the army,"

"I know," Wally replied. "I hope we're able to sign up, otherwise dad'll be furious,"

"Ah, two newcomers," a voice in front of them said.

The two boys looked ahead of them to see a tall young man, who looked to be about nineteen years old and dressed in a grey jacket, black trousers and black shoes. He had black hair, green eyes and a Scottish accent. He was about 5ft 10, the same height as Wally.

"You two from around here?" he asked them, to which Wally nodded.

"From a farm just outside Barham," he replied. "I take it your from Scotland?" he inquired.

The boy nodded.

"Aye," he said. "From a wee village just outside Glasgow." He held up his hand. "Name's William. William Boyle,"

"I'm Wally," Wally said as he shook Will's hand.

"Hal," Hal added as he shook Will's hand.

"Nice to meet ya boys," Will said as he lowered his hand. "You two young?" he asked them.

Wally nodded.

"I'm seventeen," he said. "Hal here's sixteen,"

"Oh," Will said in a suddenly worried tone. "You two may have a bit of trouble getting into the army here," he told them. "The officers might not fall for your trick to act older,"

At these words, Hal's eyes grew wide with panic.

"Oh God!" he gasped. "I forgot my birth certificate. H-How am I going to prove to them that I'm eighteen?"

Wally was thinking the same thing. They had both forgotten their birth certificates! Without them, they could not prove they were eighteen, even though neither of them were! What were they going to do?

"Alright, next lot in," a voice from the front of the line said.

Wally and Hal joined Will as the group of young men walked forward towards the entrance to the building. A middle aged looking officer was directing them into the building. As Wally and Hal passed them, Wally gave Hal a worried look. What if they were found to be too young? If they were then they would not be allowed to be joined up into the army. Their one chance of growing up would be lost forever.

The two walked through the doorway into a large rectangular shaped room with dark green coloured walls and several wooden pillars about twenty feet from both walls and spaced about ten feet from each other going down the middle of the room to the end. Along the walls were two rows of desks, one in front of the other, where officers were sat behind with enlisting papers. There was about seventy other young men in the room, about half were sat down talking to the officers or were standing around in groups talking to one another as they waited for a seat in front of the desks to empty.

Wally and Hals' eyes took in the scene around them. Wow, there were many young men signing up to fight the Germans, but the war would probably be over before they were even finished with their training. Like most of the country, Wally and Hal had been brainwashed to believe that the war would be over by Christmas. The Expeditionary Force was due to be sent across the Channel soon so would there be any fighting left for this new army, let alone them.

"Next please," a voice shouted above the many talking voices.

Wally and Hal looked in the direction of the voice. About thirty feet ahead of them on the left side of the room was a free seat in front of a table with an officer who had short grey hair, which was just visible under the military cap he was wearing.

"I'll go first," Hal said to Wally, who replied with a nod.

Hal walked over towards the desk, reaching just in time as someone else was about to walk towards it. Wally saw the other person, another young boy who looked about twenty, sigh through gritted teeth as an annoyed look came upon his face. Now he just had to wait for his turn.

"Good day, sir," Hal said to the officer as he sat down.

"Right," the officer replied in a voice that did not sound interested in being greeted, or being called sir. He moved an enlisting paper in front of him and held a pen in his hand just a few inches above it "Name?"

"Hal. Hal Aston Burtt,"

The officer wrote down the name on the paper.

"Occupation?"

"I work on a farm with my brother and my father just outside Barham,"

The officer wrote this down.

"Skills?"

"I'm a good horse rider. And I'm quite fast and I used to do climbing training,"

The officer wrote this down.

"Have you ever handled a weapon before?"

"D-does a pitchfork count?"

"Well of course it bloody well doesn't!" the officer snapped. "What do you think this; a ruddy child war? I mean air rifles or anything like that! Have you ever handled them before?"

"No,"

"Right,"

The officer wrote this down. There was just one more thing.

"Age?"

Oh no, this was it! Hal's eyes widened and he gulped and began to sweat. He had to tell him his age! How, though? He did not have his birth certificate, and even if he did what use would it be to him? He was still too young to join up.

Looks like there was only one solution to this.

"I-I," he stammered.

"Yes, c'mon, get on with it!"

"I-I'm…eighteen,"

The officer's eyes searched Hal for a few seconds.

"You can't be eighteen," he said. "You look too young,"

"I am eighteen, It's true!" Hal protested. "I know I look young but I am eighteen! I promise you,"

The officer studied Hal again. He did not look very convinced, but he could obviously not just accuse Hal of lying and kick him out of the office. Besides, the army needed this new army. They needed the men. Perhaps he was right. Maybe he did look young, but then again there were many here who looked young and their age was actually a lot older than they looked.

Hal's heart was beating madly like a drum. He began to sweat more. He had lied. He hated lying, but right now this, to him, was more important than not doing something he hated, but would it work? Would the officer fall for it?

Finally, the officer wrote down Hal's age. Hal breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It had worked. He was in, well almost.

The officer wrote down his signature and turned the paper towards Hal and held the pen towards him.

"Signature there," he said, pointing with his finger.

Hal took the pen and wrote down his signature. He hand the paper and pen back to the officer, who took the paper and put it on a pile at the side of the desk top.

"You're in," he said in a not very interested voice. "Now clear off!"

Hal nodded and stood up from his seat and walked away. He could not believe it! He-he was in! He was in the army. This was amazing! This was the best thing that ever happened to him! Oh, dad would be so proud of him. Now he just had to wait for Wally. He could wait outside for him.

Hal passed the desk which Wally was sitting in front of. He too had a middle aged officer sitting in front of him, though he was slightly friendlier than Hal's.

"Right, name?" he asked Wally.

"Wallace Francis Burtt," he replied. "Or Wally for short,"

The officer wrote this down.

"Occupation?"

"I work on a farm with my brother and father just outside Barham,"

The officer wrote this down.

"Skills?"

"I'm a good horse rider. I'm quite fast, mainly because I cycle, and I'm quite strong as well and I'm quiet fluent in German,"

The officer wrote this down.

"Have you ever handled a weapon before?"

"Umm. N-no,"

The officer wore this down.

"And last but not least, age?"

This was it! Like his brother, Wally's eyes grew wide and he began to sweat as he heard his heart beat like a drum in his chest. He could not tell them his age otherwise he would not be allowed in. There was only thing he could do.

"I'm…nineteen," he said, lying through his teeth.

The officer stared at Wally for a few seconds as if he was trying to test him and get him to reveal his true age. Wally, however, was trying to keep his cool, but it was hard doing so. The officer's eyes drilled into him.

_Oh come on! _He thought anxiously. _Stop looking at me!_

Finally, as if granting Wally's wish, the officer looked back down at the paper. Wally watched as he wrote down the numbers 1 and 9. 19. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The officer had believed him.

The officer wrote down his signature and turned the paper towards Wally and held the pen towards him as well.

"Signature here," he said, pointing with his finger.

Wally took the pen and wrote down his signature on the paper and handed the paper and pen back to the officer, who took them and placed the paper on a pile near the side of the top of the desk.

"Congratulations," he said as he held up his hand towards Wally, which he took and shook. "You're in the army,"

Wally was astounded.

"T-thank you," he said.

The officer nodded.

"You best go before you hold up the others," he told Wally.

"Oh, right, sorry,"

Wally stood up and walked away from the desk towards the building's entrance. Happiness was building up inside him. He could not believe it! He was in the army. He had lied, which was something he hated doing, but…it worked. He was now part of the force that would fight the Germans, if they were sent across the Channel before the war ended. He could not wait to tell Ha-

Oh wait. Hal might not have had much luck as him. He saw him leave out of the corner of his eye but he did not see the look on his face. What if Hal was not able to get into the army? Dad would start hating him. Wally could not live with that. If Hal was not part of the army, then he was not going to join in the training. He would not leave his brother behind.

Wally walked out of the office and back onto the busy streets. Another line of young men had begun to form along the pavement, about six of them. More would be here soon. Now he just had to find Hal.

"Wally," a voice said.

Wally turned in the direction of the voice to see Hal walking up to him.

"Hal," Wally replied. "What happened?" he asked him as his brother approached him. "Did you get into the army?"

Hal nodded.

"Yes!" he said quietly, trying hard to resist the urge to yell out happily he was part of the army. "I'm in the army. I lied about my age and they fell for it. What about you?"

"I had to do the same," Wally replied. "I don't like lying, but they fell for it as well," he added as his voice also began to show signs of happiness. "I'm in the army as well,"

"Oh, that's great!" Hal exclaimed happily. "We need to get home and tell dad! He'll be so happy,"

Wally nodded.

"Let's find a horse cart taxi," he said and the two walked off to find a lift home.

**Later that night**

The evening had begun to draw in across southern England. There were a few large clouds in the distance but they had quickly passed over the area earlier that day. The ground was wet, indicating that the clouds had brought rain with them. However, they were gone and now the dark sky was filled with a beautiful scene of stars. It was another amazing summer night.

For one family, it was a night they would not forget. Wally and Hal had returned home earlier that afternoon, having to spend the majority of the morning sheltering in Dover because of the rain that hit the area not long after they left the enlisting office. When they returned home, their father was desperately waiting to hear the news. When they told him, he cried in joy and ended up hugging his two boys so hard that he almost hurt them, but they did not care. They were overjoyed like their father to be in the army.

In the farmhouse, Wally, Hal and their father John were sitting around the kitchen table. Mary was around a friend's house so the three had the house to themselves.

"This calls for a toast," John said.

He stood up and grabbed his cane and limped over to one of the kitchen cupboards and opened it. In it were two shelves. The bottom had several glasses on it and the top had two bottles of wine. He took one of them and then took three of the glasses. He closed the cupboard door and limped back over to his seat and sat down, resting his cane against the table next to him.

"Well, this is it, boys," he said as he took the cork off of the wine bottle and poured three glasses of wine. "You're finally grown men. Soon, the Boche will be sorry for starting this war. We'll kick 'em back to Germany and have this whole war done by Christmas!"

"But what if the fighting ends before that?" Hal asked worryingly.

"Ah, you're worrying too much, Hal my boy," John said as he passed him his glass. Wally took his. "Their only saying that so you'll work hard in the training. Don't you worry. You might miss most of it, but they'll be plenty of adventure left for you to take part in when you get over there,"

Hal nodded.

"Your right," he said. "I'm just worrying too much,"

"Don't worry about it," John said as he set the wine bottle down on the table.

He took his glass and cleared his throat, as if he were the prime minister or king preparing to give a speech. Then, he began to speak, adding a posh voice and sounding like the king or the prime minister themselves, and raised his glass high into the air.

"I would like to announce to the country that my two boys, Wallace Francis Burtt and Hal Aston Burtt, are now members of the British army. I would like to extend my gratitude to them and the rest of the army as we prepare to kick the Boche in the stomach and send them packing back to Germany!"

Wally and Hal burst out laughing. Their father, despite being strict, was very humorous. They raised their glasses and held them high alongside their father's.

"To victory!" John said.

"To victory!" Wally and Hal replied in unison.

The three drank their glasses and set their glasses back down on the tables.

"Oh," Hal said as he shook his head slightly and widely opened his eyes several times. "That's strong stuff," he said.

"Some of the finest wine in England," John told his son. "Right, you two best get upstairs to bed. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow,"

Wally and Hal nodded and stood up in their seats and walked towards the stairs. Happy thoughts raced through their mind. This was, no doubt, the greatest day of their lives. Just a few weeks ago, they were being told to grow up and act like men by their father and neighbour who saw them as children. Now, however, those days were well and truly behind them. They were grown men now, and they were going to prove it by going off with the army to fight the Germans.

Tomorrow was when it was all to begin. Tomorrow, the training was to start along with the part they were to play in the Great War.

It would be one conflict the two would never forget.


	5. Training officer

**The next day **

**Dover barracks**

The bad weather from yesterday afternoon had left It's mark across much of southern England, but the summer sun had reclaimed the sky and was shining gratefully down onto the country. Everyone was able to continue with their daily activities, but for many young men across much of the country they were no longer following their daily routine. Instead, they had packed a suitcase full of clothes and books and were waiting outside the many barracks in cities across Great Britain.

In a narrow street outside the Dover barracks, two lines young men, numbering about sixty, were waiting down a cobbled street outside the barracks. Among them, standing next to each other about half way down the two lines, was Wally and Hal. They were both dressed in grey shorts, grey tops and jackets and black shoes. Both had, in one hand, a suitcase packed with clothes and books. In front of them was William, who was wearing black trousers with a grey top and a small brown overcoat.

Hal sighed in amazement as he looked up at the barracks as if it were a kind of symbol of worship.

"Well, this is it," he said. "This is where it all begins,"

Wally nodded in agreement and looked at the barracks. It was a huge square shaped building with a red/pink brick wall colour and a dark blue curved roof. A few windows were lined up along all sides of the barracks. A small half-circular entrance at the front of the building led through an almost pitch black tunnel, save for the light going in at either end, to the inside open courtyard of the building. A tall heavily built soldier with black hair and a small moustache stood with a .303 Lee Enfield rifle stood on guard outside. He looked to be in his early twenties, perfectly fit for the army.

Then, a middle aged officer appeared at the other end of the tunnel and walked down it, stopping at the outside end of it.

"You may enter," he announced before turning and walking back into the tunnel.

The two lines of men walked towards the barracks. Within a few moments, they were engulfed by the darkness of the tunnel. When Wally and Hal entered the tunnel, they gazed around it as if they were thinking were they going to get out of it. Then, after a few moments of walking in almost pitch black darkness, the two emerged with the rest of the men in the two lines into the courtyard.

The courtyard of the barracks was more of a rectangular shape for the barracks. There were many more windows lined along the walls that went around the courtyard. Several doors were also lined along the walls on the ground. In one corner of the courtyard, two troop carrying trucks were parked. In the corner opposite the trucks, a platoon of soldiers, separated into four lines and numbering ten soldiers in each line, already dressed into their uniforms, were practicing presenting arms. Some of the soldiers watched them as they walked into the courtyard. The officer in front of the soldiers shouted "Present arms!" and on command, the men took the rifles that lay resting on their shoulders and held them in front of them with both hands just above the ground.

"Halt!" the officer, who had brought them in, boomed.

The two lines of men came to a halt in the middle of the barracks courtyard.

"Left face!" the officer boomed once again.

The men turned left so they were now facing the left side of the barracks. The middle aged officer was standing about half-way from the men and left wall of the barracks courtyard. It was then Wally noticed three officers, two of them middle aged but one a young looking officer, though older than him, probably about twenty five or thirty, standing near the trucks, watching them with unimpressed looks. It was not hard to tell that although the war had just started, these officers were expecting better men to train. Not that these young men were not worthy to the army, most of them were quite heavily built and very, or at least partially, physically fit, but to these officers they were just men who knew very little about training and discipline.

"Form into three ranks," the officer in front of the men ordered.

The men stared at each other, completely clueless. What did he mean by ranks? The officer sighed through his nose in annoyance. He thought these men would at least know what three ranks meant. Obviously not.

"Three groups," the officer ordered, hoping it would be a bit simpler to them.

That did it. The two lines of men, equalling a total of sixty, broke apart into three and formed a rectangular shape with five men going across going down by four along the sides. There were three ranks; the left, the centre and the right. Wally and Hal were standing at the front of the centre rank.

It was then the three officers standing by the trucks moved. The two middle aged officers and the young officer broke away from each other, each heading towards a rank. The young officer walked towards the centre rank, the other two middle aged officers moving towards the side ranks. The men in the centre rank as the young officer.

The officer was only about 5ft 9, but he looked like a confident and striking looking person like someone no one wanted to mess with. He had short brown hair, about the same length as Wally's, with green eyes that seemed to strike spears into anyone he looked at. His body was heavily built; Wally could even see the muscles beneath the sleeves on his arms. Whatever he must have done previously had been a job of strength. He marched up to the men, stopping about ten feet from them.

"Good morning," he said in a tone that sounded as if he could have expected better from what the men in front of him. "My name is Gomer. Corporal Gomer," he added, pointing to the two chevrons, or stripes as they were nicknamed in the army, as if he were correcting the soldiers for getting his name wrong.

"If you're wondering about my heavy build and why I'm not an officer," he continued. "It is because I used to work in the mines up in Wales, not that I am Welsh," he walked up and down past the soldiers, looking at them and taking them in. It was as if he was a feared military leader trying to weed out the weak from the strong. "You will find that I am a good teacher," he said to them, coming to a halt. "Do you know why?" none of the soldiers answered. "Because what I teach you, you will never forget," he answered his question.

He stepped closer to the soldiers, stopping about four feet from Wally and another soldier who were directly in the middle of the front row.

"Never!" he added in a quiet and dangerous tone. He stepped back a pace. "Now go inside and unpack your things," he said to them. "You will see your uniform laid out on your beds. Change into that and meet me in the training courtyard on the other side of the barracks. Be quick!"

The group turned and walked towards a door on the right wall of the courtyard. Corporal Gomer turned and walked towards the door on the front wall of the courtyard. Some of the soldiers watched him leave.

"Blimey, he's a tough bloke," one of them whispered.

"I don't like the sound of him," Hal said to Wally, who nodded in reply.

_I wonder what kind of training he has in store for us. _He thought anxiously as the group opened the door and walked into the building to unpack their things and get changed.


	6. Training

**Ten minutes later**

The training area was a large concrete ground area on what was to be a factory for building artillery but the army had bought it several months before the war and made into an area for training soldiers. At the far right end of the training area was a long brick wall that looked like it would collapse if you so much touched it. The group of men Gomer was leading were training not far in front of it. Scattered around the rest of the training area were other groups of men marching or practicing bayoneting or doing other areas of training that were apparently going to be useful. Looking at them, Gomer's men could see how such training tactics would be useful to them in a war that would be over before Christmas.

"Attention!"

Gomer's men were now dressed in green trousers, jackets that looked slightly more like oversized overcoat, flat capped black hats and black boots that looked to have been made for people with huge feet but despite their size, they found a way to perfectly fit the feet of those who were wearing them. They looked like a group of officers, only that they were not and were in fact soldiers in training. Corporal Gomer was standing in front of them. He had put a flat capped green hat to match his uniform. When he had shouted attention, they stood at their full height with their legs together and their hands placed on their hips and chest puffed out. This was the start of the training the group were going through.

"At ease!" Gomer ordered.

The men moved their hands back down to their sides and moved their legs so they were no longer touching.

"Attention!"

The soldiers rose back to their full height with their hands on their hips, feet together and chest puffed out.

"At ease,"

The soldiers relaxed, moving their arms back down to their sides and moving their feet apart so they were no longer touching.

"Right face!" Gomer ordered.

The soldiers turned right so they were now facing towards a group of men practicing men marching with rifles on their shoulders.

"Left face!"

The soldiers turned so they were now facing Gomer again.

"Right face!"

They turned back towards the marching men with rifles on their shoulders.

"Forward march!"

The men marched forward, their left feet moving ahead at the same time with all the other men in the group. Their arms were swinging by their sides as they marched ahead.

"Left! Left! Left!" Gomer repeated this several times, no doubt already annoying the men of the group.

The group marched on for about twenty feet before Gomer shouted "Halt!" and they did. He walked up to them.

"Now head back inside and put on your army uniforms," he said to them. "When you come out, you will be given a rifle. Now go,"

The men walked back over towards the barracks.

"First day and already he's really annoying," William whispered to Wally who replied with a nod.

_I wonder what the rifles will be used for _he thought as they walked back into the barracks.

**Several minutes later**

"Attention!"

Of course, repeating what they had just done.

The men were now dressed in light green tunics with matching trousers and boots that were engulfed by the trousers. They had curved top steel helmets on their heads and each had a .303 Lee Enfield rifle placed on their shoulders with the barrel aimed diagonally up at the sky. Like when they were dressed in their officer uniforms and Gomer shouted "Attention!" they stood at their full height with their feet together and one hand hanging by their side. The other was placed on the butt of the rifle.

"Right face!"

The men turned their heads so they were looking at where the other group of marching men had been but where training somewhere else, giving the group a clear view of the lush green fields and the cobbled path that led into them.

"Eyes front!"

The men were snapped out of their loving gaze at the surrounding countryside and looked back at Gomer, someone they were beginning to not like a lot.

"Right face!"

The men turned to their bodies were now facing the lush green fields of the nearby countryside. What they would give to be back at their homes surrounded by them, or at least train in them.

"Forward march!"

The men marched ahead with their free arms swinging by their sides.

"Left! Left! Left!" Gomer chanted again.

_God, shut up! You're giving me a headache _Wally thought annoyingly.

**Later that day**

It was now the late afternoon. Even though it was summer, the Sun had already begun to set behind the distant hills. Soon it would be night. Already across the country people were getting any last minute activities out of the way before they went home for dinner.

At the Dover barracks, Wally sat down on his bed. He took off his boots, his feet aching from having been in them for most of the day. His feet were red all the way down the sides and bottom. He rubbed them to try and soothe the pain away but it was having little effect, and this was just the first day of training. They had many more ahead of them before they would finally be sent over the Channel to France. For Wally, it could not come soon enough.

"Ah! God!" he heard Hal gasp in pain as he sat down on the bed next to Wally's.

He took off his boots, revealing his red covered and aching feet.

"This is even more tiring than when we were back on the farm," he said to Wally.

"I know," he replied, wincing as he rubbed his feet.

"Good work today, men," a voice boomed from the entrance to the barracks room.

Everyone turned to see Gomer standing in the doorway. He was holding a kind of crane behind his back. It stuck out behind him like a tail.

"I must say, I was very impressed with your performance today," he said. "Continue and you will be fit to fight the Boche. Now, get some rest before you come downstairs later for dinner. And make sure you get an early night because tomorrow we're going on a march,"

With that said, Gomer turned and walked towards a flight of steps. He turned right and disappeared as he walked up them.

"You know, I have a feeling I'm starting to regret coming here," one of the soldiers said.

"At least any of the other two officers would have been fine!" another moaned as he threw his boots under his bed. "Out of all three, we get the one that likes to tire everybody to death!"

"Just thank God we don't have to put up with him for the entire war," Wally piped up. A few soldiers nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, we'll be free of him soon,"

"I only wish it could come sooner," Hal muttered under his breath.


	7. The march

**The next day**

**Outside Dover**

The Sun beamed down on Britain once again. Birds flew effortlessly through the air, singing loudly as they moved from tree to tree. Out in the many fields that surrounded Dover, horses and cows were grazing. Today, as some farmers put it, was "Another good day on God's green Earth"

On one of the many cobbled paths that led out from Dover, a group of men, dressed in light green tunics, light green trousers and black boots that were engulfed by the trousers and holding rifles on their shoulders, were marching up the path. They were in two rows numbering ten in each and both going down in single file. Another man was standing at the front right side of the group. It was Gomer. As he had said to his men yesterday in the barracks, he was taking them out on a march from Dover up to a nearby village and then back to the barracks.

So far the men were not enjoying this, apart from the scenery that was around them. Not only were they having to walk around dressed like it was winter and holding a rifle, but they were also weighed down with rations that they would get when they were at the front, a water bottle, a few clips of live rounds and also a bit of cloth to clean their boots, and all of this was in a backpack they were wearing. In this weather, it was boiling hot. Most of the men were starting to sweat a little bit.

At the front of the group, on the left row, was Wally. Next to him was another soldier called Robert, who was about Wally's height with black hair, brown eyes and was quite strong, which had come from his job as he used to help his father in their village's blacksmith. He was only seventeen as well, about three months younger than Wally.

Wally gazed at the scenery around them. He smiled. It was like being back at the farm. He sighed a little. He missed his old life back on his farm. If only he could return there, but the sad thing was those days were well and truly behind him now. He was no longer a farm worker. He was a soldier in training.

"Keep your eyes on the path ahead of you, soldier," Gomer's voice barked out at him, snapping Wally back into reality from his daydream.

"Sorry, Gofer," Wally muttered under his breath.

Gofer was a nickname the group had given to Gomer; obviously they did not call him by it. They had nicknamed him Gofer because he was a fast eater; Robert had told everyone else this when he was down in the mess hall with Gomer and said it was like he was shovelling food into his mouth, and also because he was well known for being a fast digger when he worked in the mines, which the group had found out because another person who worked with Gofer in the mines was here as well and he told them.

The group marched on down the cobbled road. Not far ahead of them was a small cobbled path that led off the road and into a field. At least there, it would be a bit cooler for the group as there was a light breeze blowing. However, they were not going there. The village they would be going to was further up the road, about another mile or so. They would be there soon.

Hal sighed in boredom. This march was not fun at all, especially with Gomer (Gofer) leading it. He was trying to think of something to pass the time. He could not talk or look around because eagle boy at the front was looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure everyone was focused.

Then, something crept into his mind. It was a song. An American one called "Pride of Idaho", a favourite of his. He could not sing it, but he could whistle it. Gofer had not said anything against whistling whilst they were on the march.

Hal began to whistle the background music for "Pride of Idaho". Sure enough, Gomer turned to see who was whistling.

"Whoever's whistling, pack it in unless you want a boot up the backside!" he barked.

Hal ceased his whistling. Oh great, now they could not whistle as well. Wow, this was more boring than he thought. Wait, what if he hummed "Pride of Idaho"? Yes, that sounded like a better idea than whistling and there was Gomer would hear him. He began to hum the song as quietly as he could. He looked up at Gomer, who had not turned round at the sound of the humming. Hal smiled to himself. Good, he had not heard that. He could hum the song the rest of the way to the village.

He began to hum again, only this time it was suddenly louder for some reason. Gomer and a few heads turned to see who was humming. Hal looked next to him. The soldier next to him, a small blonde haired boy about sixteen who was a bit shorter than him, had decided to join in in the humming. Gomer stopped the group and walked up to them, pushing past William and another soldier who were standing in front of Hal and the soldier.

"If I hear one more noise from either of you, you'll be getting a boot up the backside!" he growled at them. "Do you hear me?"

The two nodded. Gomer walked back to his position at the front right side of the group. As Hal watched him, he saw Wally and a few other soldiers' glares follow him. They really did not like him! They were all willing to choose a different commander. Any other commander to train them would have been fine, but instead they get stuck with the one who takes the training rules far too seriously.

"Right, let's march on _without_ any noises!" he said to the group, adding a stern tone on the word without.

The group marched on down the road. Hal sighed. He was now beginning to regret joining the army. This training was boring. It had no fun at all, not even the slightest.

_At least It's only for a few months_ he thought hopefully as they marched on, looking down at the ground as Gomer turned to see if they were reaming focused on the march rather than daydreaming.


	8. A tense rivalry

**The next day**

Today the squad were back in the training courtyard, again dressed in their green tunics, trousers and boots, but this time were in a line, spaced about one metre from each other, with their Lee Enfield .303 rifles held in front of them. There was a small plastic dagger attached to the bottom front of the weapon. It was a fake bayonet.

Standing in front of the soldier at the right end of the line was Gomer, again dressed in the usual officer uniform. In his hand was his wooden crane, which he was using for today's exercise. His men were practicing bayoneting, which was going to be useful to them when they were at the front. Their target was Gomer, who was playing the role of a German. His men were to try and bayonet him. It was obvious that they were hoping that these daggers would suddenly become real so they could use them on Gomer. They had a really sour attitude to him before, and yesterday had dwindled their attitude towards him even more.

After Gomer had snapped at Hal and the soldier next to him for humming, the march to the village had gone without any other incident. Then, when the squad had reached the village, they realised that there had been more to this march than meets the eye.

Outside the village was a small muddy field that was owned by the army. It was a spare one as there was one at the barracks, but it was being used by the other training groups. Gomer had decided to use it for the men to train in. First of all, they practiced marching across it, again having to listen to Gomer's "Left, left , left!". Then, they had to practice lying down in it, which was why the squad really hated him now.

By the time they were returning to the barracks, the fronts of their uniforms were covered with mud, as were their faces. Then, as if it was not bad enough but at least they had been able to wash their faces, Gomer had quickly ordered them to line up once more for a uniform inspection. Obviously, the mud was to be on there from today's training but so were buttons and pockets and the tunics and trousers had to be in good position. Everything went well, until he reached Wally. He had looked at his tunic and saw that a button was missing, having come off in the mud training earlier that day. It was obvious by the glare he had given Wally that he was more than angry about that.

However, he had seemed to have forgotten about it, hopefully.

"Forward," Gomer barked at the soldier in front of him.

The soldier stepped forward and aimed his rifle at Gomer. He thrust it forward towards him, but Gomer knocked it aside with his crane and poked the soldier in the chest.

"Again!" he barked at the soldier.

The soldier tried again, only to meet the same result.

"Again!"

The soldier clutched it tighter. What it he struck lower down, at the stomach? Maybe that would work. He raised his weapon, pointing it towards Gomer's chest to try and fool him. Then, he thrust it forward.

Gomer swung his crane at the soldier's rifle, almost knocking it out of his hand. He had been the expecting the attack. Gomer sighed in frustration as the soldier stepped back from him. He moved on to the next soldier, who stood at attention and stepped forward, lowering his rifle. He thrust it towards him, but Gomer, like with the last soldier knocked it aside with his crane. He tutted loudly and moved onto the next soldier.

Wally, who was now about three soldiers down from where Gomer was, watched as the next soldier thrust his weapon towards him but was met with the same result as with the other two. He really did not like Gomer, he did not hate him but he did not like him, which was hard to say to the others in the group because they all, more or less, wanted to give him a bloody nose. Even though he was not violent himself, Wally kind of felt the same way. Maybe not as far as giving him a bloody nose but at least giving him a piece of his mind.

The soldier Gomer was at failed a second time and he moved on to the next, who also failed to bayonet him. Gomer moved onto the next soldier, who, unsurprisingly, failed to bayonet him. Gomer barked at him to try again, but was met with the same result. Sighing in frustration, he moved onto the next soldier, the one next to Wally. The soldier stood at attention, stepped forward, lowering his weapon, and thrust it towards Gomer, who, as if by not even trying, knocked it aside with his cane. He moved onto the next soldier.

_Oh no! _Wally thought as Gomer stepped in front of him.

Gomer smiled as he stopped in front of Wally.

"Wallace," he said. "Let's see if you can do better,"

It was obvious to Wally, and probably everyone else, that he had something planned to do to Wally.

Wally stepped forward, lowering his weapon, and stopped a few feet from Gomer. He thrust it towards Gomer but, like the others, it was knocked aside with his cane.

Then, as Wally moved back from Gomer, he felt a sharp blow to the head. He gasped and rubbed it and looked up to see Gomer lower his cane. That bastard! He had hit him over the head with his cane!

"Again!" Gomer barked at him.

Wally was urging himself to say no, but he could not go against his officer's orders, or he would get into big trouble. He would just have to put up with it, but he felt really angry that Gomer had hit him over the head with his cane. This was probably his punishment for loosing a button on his uniform.

Wally stood up at his full height and thrust his weapon at Gomer, but he knocked it aside and slammed his cane as hard as he could at Wally's head again. Wally winced and retreated again, rubbing the top of his head. Not only was it beginning to hurt more, but now he was starting to get really angry. He even came close to swinging a punch up at Gomer. He could hit him right in the jaw. He could not miss.

No, he decided against it and retreated back to his position in front of Gomer.

"Again!" Gomer barked at him a second time.

Wally clutched his rifle tighter. If Gomer was doing this to wind him up, it was working, but he could not really do anything about it or he would be kicked out of the army. If that happened, his dad would kill him.

Wally readied himself for another thrust, but this time his determination to knock Gomer over filled him. He raised his weapon a little higher and thrust it forward.

Whether it was him raising his rifle or Gomer's late reaction he did not know but somehow Wally had managed to knock Gomer's cane out of his hand and slam his body into his. With a loud thud, Gomer fell onto his back on the ground. The other soldiers stared at each other. He had done it!

Gomer was less than pleased about this. Even though one of his men had succeeded in knocking him over, which was the whole point of the training, he knew that he had done it because it was payback for hitting him on the head. He shot up from the floor, a furious look on his face.

"You'll pay for this Wallace!" he hissed. He picked up his cane and turned back to Wally. "Rifle, fill your pack!" he ordered.

"No, no, corporal," a voice behind him said.

Gomer turned to see an elderly looking man, about sixty five with a grey moustache, dressed in a high ranking officer's uniform, possibly a commander, standing there. He stepped towards Gomer.

"You must keep your eyes open, corporal," he said to him. "Men like this one come very rarely,"

The officer walked off past Gomer, who turned back at Wally with a glare stuck on his face. He was furious! Not only had he been knocked over by him, he had been humiliated!

"Get back in line!" he said to him.

Wally did so and Gomer moved on.

**Later that night**

It had been another long day for the new recruits and they were glad to get some sleep. As they lay in their beds, dressed in their plain white pyjamas, they dreamed of what the war would be like for them when they were sent over to France. Some were even dreaming of the victories they would achieve when over there. Defeating the Germans, ending the war and ensuring that Belgium and France were free of the Boche and returning home on Christmas Day.

Wally turned over in his sleep and snoozed on. Today had been hard, especially after he knocked over Gomer, and he had to keep a low profile after that. Luckily, however, Gomer had left him alone mostly so it was not too bad, but he kept feeling like that was not going to be the end of it.

The inside of the barrack was almost pitch black, save for a few dim lights and the moonlight coming in through the nearby windows. It was also very quiet. The only noises were either men snoring or the shifting of covers as they turned over in their sleep.

Then, from the barracks entrance, a figure with a candle walked into the room. He was dressed in an officer uniform. It was Gomer. He was here on a personal mission of his own: to make Wally pay for humiliating him earlier on. He walked into the barracks, passing the beds of his men until he stepped at the fifth and walked around it to the side. Laying sound asleep under the covers of the bed was Wally. He shifted onto his side and snoozed on.

_Time for a rude awakening _Gomer thought as he moved the candle near Wally's head.

Wally let out a little moan as he turned back onto his back. He was having a good dream about him and Hal returning home at the end of the war and seeing their family again. It was good. It was a really go-

Suddenly, he began to feel hot. Why? Was he having a hot flush? He tried shifting a little bit but this did not work.

Gomer watched impatiently as Wally began to shift a bit more. At least his idea of waking him up was working. Wally began to stir. Then, to Gomer's delight, he opened his eyes and rubbed them. He stared around him for a few seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Who or what had just woken him up?

Then, his eyes turned to the light next to him. He saw a hand holding it and his eyes followed it to an arm and then up the arm to a body. He looked at the head and saw it was Gomer.

"Up! Now!" Gomer whispered in a dangerous voice.

Wally did so.

**A few minutes later**

Wally ran up the steps of the barracks that led to the level where his group slept. His hands were placed firmly on his hips and his face was red. Sweat trickled down his face from his hair. When he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped. The coldness from the concrete floor flowed up through his feet into his body, making him shiver.

Another person walked up and stopped next to him. It was Gomer. He stepped up to Wally.

"Explain why I'm doing this again," Wally whispered to him.

"The general said that men like you come very rarely," Gomer whispered back to him in a dangerous voice. "So we must keep you in fit condition!"

Gomer then placed his foot down on Wally's and pressed down. Wally winced in pain and moved on to the end of the level, stopping in front of another flight of stairs. Gomer walked after him and stopped next to him. He pressed his foot down on Wally's foot again, making him grit his teeth to conceal the pain, and he ran up the stairs to the landing at the top. Gomer followed him up and this time stepped on Wally's foot with his heel. Wally screwed up his face and desperately tried not to yell out in pain and moved up the next flight of stairs to the landing at the top of that. Gomer, again followed him up and, after pressing his foot down on his feet again, made Wally ran up the next flight of steps to the next level of the building.

It was obvious to tell a tense rivalry had formed between these two, and it showed no sign of letting up.


	9. Payback

**Ten days later**

The past ten days had been hard for Gomer's men, and he knew it but continued pushing them to their limits. So far they had been through the barracks' muddy field at least eight times in the last ten days, bayoneting sacks of hay at least five times, three of them in pouring rain, and even went on another march, again in the pouring rain and part of it was even across one of the neighbouring fields that had been churned up by the rain. When the squad had returned, they had mud all the way up their boots and trousers, one soldier called David, had fallen over several times and came back looking like he had been rolling around in the mud. Obviously, Gomer had flipped at seeing him in that state.

However, the squad were lucky. Out of all of them, one soldier Gomer had especially been pushing to his limits and beyond, and probably really winding him up at the same time, was Wally. After he had humiliated him during the pretend bayoneting, Gomer had been waking him every night and forcing him to run up the steps of the barracks for at least two hours. His way of this training was to 'help' Wally become fitter but he knew, and so did Wally, that the purpose of this was payback for humiliating him in front of one of the commanders of the barracks.

And this had been only part of his punishment. To add to it, whenever they were practice bayoneting Gomer had picked Wally to be the 'German' and had stabbed him with the fake bayonet, which hurt wherever it hit afterwards. Also when they were in the muddy field, he made Wally stay behind and ordered him to "Stand up!" then "Advance!" and then "Lie down!", covering him in mud as if he had jumped into a sea of it (this had made him be sick one time as he had accidentally swallowed a bit of mud when Gomer had ordered him to lie down). Even when they last went out on a march, Gomer's hopes of punishing Wally were not forgotten. He had another officer lead the men on and took Wally from the group and made him walk through the thickest part of the mud, with him walking alongside on the paved road. Wally had fallen over twice; luckily he had managed to avoid getting mud on his face again after what happened last time that had happened, and he had got stuck a few times, to which Gomer would help him out by kicking him up the backside as hard as possible.

Gomer's punishment was starting to really get to Wally, but it was also beginning to hurt. He could not believe why Gomer was doing this to him. All of this had started over a simple button missing on his uniform. What Gomer did not realise how much this was hurting him. Wally knew that he could easily get away with what he was doing to him, but eventually everything that was being done to him was going to come back and get Gomer one day.

Wally just hoped it would be soon.

Sadly, however, it was already obvious it was not going to be today. Gomer and another officer were already taking the men out on a march and, like last time, Wally was kept away from the others by Gomer.

"Come on now, Wallace!" Gomer barked at him. "Get a move on!"

Gomer had forced him to cross another stretch of mud by the paved road and because it had been raining the night before and the morning Sun had partially the ground, the mud was as sticky as ever. Already Wally had fallen over and gotten mud up his trousers and up his shirt and he had more mud sticking to his boots like wet clay. The mud had even slowed him down because every time he stepped into it, his feet sank a few inches and he had to pull hard to get them out. At the moment, he was having a bit of trouble getting his feet out of a puddle that his foot had sank about five inches into. He tried to pull it out, but it was taking a long time.

Gomer sighed and stepped into the mud, coming to a halt about two feet behind Wally. Then, he brought his foot back and launched it at Wally, hitting him in the backside as hard as he could. Wally was almost literally launched a few inches into the air and stumbled forward, trying to keep his balance so he would not fall face first into the mud.

"Thanks," he grumbled.

"Alright, come on! Get a move on!" Gomer ordered.

Wally sighed through gritted teeth and walked on, Gomer following alongside on the paved road. Only a few moments later, he got stuck again and this time, in an effort to keep his balance, his rifle fell off the strap on his shoulder and into the mud.

"Pick up your rifle! C'mon!" Gomer barked at him.

_Can I pick it up and thrust the bayonet at you! _Wally thought angrily as he grabbed his rifle and slung it back across his shoulder and then pulled himself out of the mud.

He moved on, Gomer following him.

**Later that day**

On the distant horizon, clouds were beginning to gather. Another storm was on It's way in so everyone was hurrying about to get whatever they needed done and then get home before it started to rain. The men were already back at the barracks, having been given the rest of the evening to rest because of the weather that was to hit later that night.

In one of the barracks' rooms, Wally winced in pain as he sat down on his bed. His bottom still hurt from where Gomer had kicked him. The top of his leg even hurt because when he got stuck again, Gomer had obviously aimed to kick him at the backside but had missed and his foot had instead hit the top of his leg, which left Wally limping for the rest of the march.

"Are you alright?" Hal asked him as he sat down on his bed next to Wally.

"No," Wally replied.

He had explained what Gomer had been doing to him and very quickly everyone else in their group knew as well. William, who had taken off his helmet and tunic, revealing a white vest over his chest, walked over.

"Did he hurt you again?" he asked Wally, who nodded, wincing as he rubbed the top of his leg.

"Alright, commander!" a voice from the stairwell said loudly. "I'm heading into Dover for a drink with the other officers. I said I'd meet them down in the pub,"

Everyone looked to see Gomer, as usual dressed in his officer uniform with his cane put in a slot on his belt and newly cleaned boots, walk into view from the stairs, which led up to the next level, at the other end of the level.

"Are you sure?" another voice, that sounded much older, probably from a commander in his fifties, maybe sixties, asked. "It's going to rain tonight," he warned.

"Oh, that won't put me off," Gomer replied. "Right, I'll be back later,"

He whistled a tune to himself as he walked to the end of the level, turned right, to the steps that led to the ground floor, and disappeared from sight.

Oh, he was going for a drink, was he? Well that was a good example for his men. Whilst they had been tired out training all day he was going to relax the good way whilst they were left here bored out of their minds.

Wally was the angriest. Gomer had really wound him up today, not only had he almost sent him face first into the mud when he had kicked him up the backside, but now his leg was hurting and he would be left limping for a few days. He clenched his hand into a fist and just wished Gomer would appear in front of him so he could swing a punch at him. There was no doubt that everyone was thinking the same thing. They all really hated him and just wanted to beat the cr-

Wait a minute! An idea popped into Wally's head. If Gomer was going out into town to a pub, then there was no doubt that he would get drunk, probably not a lot but at least enough for him to be in the condition Wally wanted him to be in. Oh yes. He had taken his training too far with him. Now it was his turn to pay Gomer back.

"When It's nightfall, everyone get dressed," Wally said.

"Why, where are we going?" Hal asked him.

"To pay Gomer a little visit whilst he's in town," Wally replied.

**Later that night **

Darkness had descended over England but, miraculously, the storm that had been predicted to hit the coast did not strike, although it did rain hard for about half an hour before it moved back out to sea, but other than that the storm had gone. The sky was filled with the beautiful sight of the stars which shined brightly like white lights. It was perfect for going back outside now the storm had gone.

In Dover, it was almost quiet, save for the singing coming from the pubs. From one pub on one of the main streets of the city, a man walked out from the pub, filling the air with the sound of men singing. Gomer groaned and closed the door, concealing the noise back inside the pub once again. He had had a good time drinking with his mates but now it was time to head back to the barracks.

As he walked off the pavement onto the dark road, he failed to notice a few figures sneaking up behind him. It was William, Hal and David. One of them was holding a sack. Hiding in the doorways of the buildings along the sides of the road were more figures. Wally was among them. He was hiding in the doorway of a fruit shop. A few feet behind him, hiding in the doorway of a bank, was the other soldier Gomer had snapped at when the group went on their first march. His name was Tom. He was just as determined as the rest of the group to payback Gomer for the way he had been treating them.

"W-w-whe-e-e-n-n-n o-o-the-r-r hel-pers f-f-ail and c-o-o-m-m-mf-f-f-orts f-f-l-e-e-e-e," Gomer sang drunkenly as he walked down the road.

The group behind him crept closer, raising their arms ready to pounce. Wally and Tom readied themselves to run to Gomer. Across the road, three others were doing the same. They had been waiting for about twenty minutes for Gomer to come out of the pub and just when they had decided to give up, Hal ran over for one more look and shouted to the others he was coming out. Now they just had to hope no one saw them do what they were about to do.

"He-e-e-l-l-l-p-p o-o-f-f-f th-e-e-e hel-p-p-le-e-e-s-s-s-s-s. O-o-o-o a-a-a-b-b-i-i-i-d-d-de w-w-i-i-i-t-th m-"

Suddenly, a hand was thrown over his mouth. His eyes widened and he tried to shout something, even though it would sound muffled, but then a sack was forced over his head. Wally, Tom and the other three soldiers ran over to the other three and, whilst David and two of the soldiers from across the road kept watch, carried him over towards a puddle of mud on a small grass patch where a tree was growing out of the middle of. When they reached it, they put Gomer knee down on the ground (he was still shouting from underneath the sack but it was muffled) and William pushed him forward into the mud.

The group burst out laughing as mud splattered up Gomer's trousers and jacket.

"Advance!" one of them shouted in a mocking tone.

Wally walked up behind Gomer as he sat up.

"Lay down!" he said in a mocking tone as he pushed Gomer forward into the mud, making the group laugh again.

The group then picked Gomer up, being careful not to touch the mud and carried him back out into the middle of the road. Hal then pulled down his trousers, revealing his boxers, and Wally took the cane from the strap on his belt. He stood behind him, brought back the cane and swung it like a baseball bat at Gomer's backside. A yell erupted from the sack, making the group burst out with laughter.

The group then ran into the darkness laughing their heads off. Gomer staggered forward, moaning in pain as he rubbed his bottom from where the cane had hit him.

He had finally gotten his just desserts.


	10. Off to war

**December 1****st****, 1914**

**Dover barracks **

The once sunny and calm days of the summer had gone, only to be replaced by the now cloudier and slightly colder days of autumn. The wind had been picking up as well, bringing with it a sudden coldness that made the body shiver when the wind touched it. Everyone was starting to wrap up warm to prepare for the coming winter.

In the Dover barracks, it was a cloudy day, but not enough for it to rain, with a slight breeze blowing through the air. The three groups of men that had entered the courtyard just under four months earlier were now standing in the same formation as they had done when they arrived dressed in their green trousers, tunics and jackets and black army boots. On their heads were dark green helmets. Each soldier had a .303 Lee Enfield rifle placed on his shoulder. Standing at the left end of each group was their officer leader.

Standing at the left end of the middle group was Gomer. He was dressed in his usual officer uniform, but he had a faint spot of mud on the bottom of his jacket, a reminder of him being humiliated by his group of men that night in August three and a half months ago. In the days following the group's payback on him, he had been a lot softer and had virtually left Wally alone. He had even stopped taking his men out on marches in the rain. The group, however, always feared that Gomer would find out that it was they who had humiliated him in Dover, but it was obvious by his sudden change in attitude afterwards that he knew it was them but he did nothing against them. Probably because he knew that if he treated him men badly again then they would spread the rumours of him being thrown in the mud and having a whacked against his bottom, something that would make him a laughing stock among his fellow officers.

The men were facing the left side of the courtyard. Standing in the middle of the left side of the courtyard was a commander, the one who had humiliated Gomer on the day Wally knocked him over during the practice bayonet training.

"Your training days are over!" he announced. "You are soldiers now in our small but well trained and well equipped army. Fit and ready to do battle for King and country. You have all signed up in wanting to hammer the Boche and kick them back to Germany. Well, by God you have earned that reward. Your training officers are who you should be grateful to. Their ways of training may sometimes have seemed harsh to you but you will thank your fine instructors for the lessons they have taught you. Now go men and by God, we will hammer the Huns and kick them back into Germany by Christmas. Good luck,"

A sense of happiness filled the air. This was it. The long training was finally over. Now they were going to kick the Germans out of France and Belgium and bring a quick end to this war. Maybe they would not be out there for as long as they had hoped, but there was still plenty of time to enjoy this quick adventure and be home by Christmas.

"Left face!" an officer near the entrance to the courtyard ordered.

The groups of men turned so they were once again facing the long tunnel they had walked through when they arrived. Gomer, who was still facing forward towards the left side of the courtyard, stepped forward and held his position.

"Forward march!" the officer ordered.

The chorus of marching feet filled the air as the men marched forward into the tunnel and back out into the streets of Dover. Whilst the other two group leading officers watched their men go, Gomer just walked back towards the entrance into the barracks. It was obvious he was glad they were gone, but also fearful because he knew they could tell anyone of what they had done to him. He would be a laughing stock. He would just have to pray they did not.

As the men marched into the streets of Dover, they were greeted by great crowds of people lined up along the pavements waving happily clapping and cheering them. Some pretty young women from the crowds gave some of the men flowers. There were even a few children mimicking the marching alongside the men. Some women were even running from the crowd and kissing the men and telling them to hammer the Germans.

Wally smiled at the scene around them.

"Well this is it," he said to himself. "This is where our adventure begins,"

The men marched on through the city streets. More people were joining the crowds. Eventually, they reached the docks and were loaded onto the waiting British destroyer warships. Wally and Hal walked up the ramp onto one of the waiting destroyers. Behind them, the crowds, which had now swelled to over a thousand, were cheering, clapping and waving to the men. They waved back.

Wally and Hal walked over to the front end of the ship's main deck and looked out at the great stretch of dark blue water in front of them.

"Well this is it," Hal said. "I can't wait,"

"Neither can I," Wally replied. "Soon we'll end this war and come home heroes,"

"Let's just hope they'll still be fighting left to go around," Hal said.

Wally nodded in agreement and looked back over at the docks. More and more people were joining the over swelling crowd to bid them farewell for the battle they had ahead of them. He smiled at this great sight.

But he felt a bit…well, uneasy. Oh come on, why should he? He and his brother were going off to fight the Germans? Then, he remembered that he was no longer a child. He was a man now, and he was going off to France to fight other men, and the point is was that he would actually have to _kill _another Human being.

He was a bit concerned about something else. What if, and this was just him and almost all of the time he was concerned about he turned out to be wrong about doing so, this war did not end by Christmas? What if…it went on longer then it should? At that point, he shook the thought out of his mind. No, of course not. That was not going to happen. They would be back in time for Christmas, hopefully just in time for the roast to be brought out of the oven.

Another soldier walked up to the two and slapped them hard on the backs. It was William.

"Well, this is it, lads!" he announced. "Our journey begins here!"

Wally and Hal nodded in agreement and the three looked back out at the great stretch of water that was the English Channel. The ship shook slightly as it began to move away from the port and out to sea. The crowds kept on cheering and clapping and waving goodbye. All the men joined them.

Their journey to war had begun, and it would be one they would never forget.


	11. Brothers departing

**The next day**

**Calais, France**

It was a dull and grey morning for the people of France. It was cold too, at least about ten, maybe twelve degrees and that was it. Already the first signs of the coming winter were beginning to show. Along the coast, a cold breeze cut through those outside, making them feel like ice.

On a large ship approaching the port town of Calais, many of the soldiers were lined up along the decks of the ship and looked out at the long stretch of coastline that was France and the continent of Europe. The port town of Calais covered much of their peripheral vision of the coastline. Though it was freezing, they were completely unaware of it. They just seemed to be fixed on the approaching port town and coastline as if it had put them in a trance.

Wally and Hal were at the front of the ship along with about forty other men, many of whom were talking amongst themselves about the coming days of when they would be with the army driving the Germans back to Germany.

"We're almost there," Hal said to Wally in a breathless, but happy voice. "We'll be with the army soon,"

"I just hope there's enough adventure left to go round," Wally replied.

About ten minutes later, the ship docked into the harbour. A large metal ramp was lowered down onto the dry dock. The men collected their things and walked off the ship onto the dry dock. Wally and Hal took in the scene around them. Now they were in France.

It was much different from their country. The houses looked like a mixture of English houses and Mediterranean villas. Most had small front gardens with wooden front gates. The streets were thin cobbled roads just big enough for an army truck to drive down as long as no one was on the road as well. Outside Calais were fields that seemed to stretch on forever. Some had cows and sheep grazing in them, others were fields of corn and wheat.

"Wow," Hal said as he gazed at the surrounding docks where many small rowboats were tied up to wooden pillars in the water. "It's beautiful,"

"I know," Wally replied. "It's just like being back at home."

"We'll be seeing a lot more of this soon," another soldier, who had overheard their conversation, said to them as he walked up to them, stopping next to Hal. "I've heard that Belgium and the border line of France is quite a pretty place,"

"Alright, lads," an officer from the head of the group announced, loudly, drawing their attention. "Follow me to the departing station just outside the town. From there, you'll see where you're being stationed,"

The officer turned and walked down the dry dock towards the town. The large group of men, now numbering at least around two hundred, followed.

They walked into the town, quickly having to form into lines of three in order to get down the narrow street. Wally and Hal were about twelve lines from the back of the huge formation of men. They gazed at the surrounding line of houses either side of them. In the front gardens of some were French women, dressed in blue or yellow dresses, with their children. They watched with hope as the formation of Englishmen walked past them, going off to fight a war on the soil of another country.

The formation walked for about ten minutes until they were out of the maze of thin cobbled street and houses and were outside Calais. They came into a large field. Here there were several large tents scattered about. A few tens of other men, numbering about forty or fifty, were standing around talking in groups. Not far away, on the edge of the field, was a large group of parked army trucks. Occasionally, a soldier emerged from the tent and one of the groups would rush over to him. There was no doubt they would be asking where he was going to be sent.

"Company, halt!" the officer at the front of the formation ordered.

The men came to a halt and formed into a line in front of the officer, who turned to face them.

"Right, now you are to line up outside these tents and you will be told where you will be assigned." The officer explained. "Best of luck to you, men and good luck." He turned and walked away, but not before adding, muttering under his breath. "You're going to need it,"

When the officer had walked away, the men walked over to the tents and formed a line outside them. Wally was in one line with three other soldiers in front of him. Hal was in line with another group of soldiers outside another tent about twenty feet away. Every now and then, Wally's line would move forward as a soldier walked in and seemed to disappear for several moments before re-appearing from the tent again. Some had glad looks on their faces, but others had looks of grim.

The second soldier in the line walked into the tent. After about a minute, he emerged and joined a nearby group of soldiers. The soldier in front of Wally walked into the tent, making him the front of the line. He watched as the soldier moved the fabric aside and disappeared into the tent. The seconds ticked by. Even though this was not even the front line, he was tense. He did not know where he would be sent. What was worse, he did not know where Hal would be sent. He just prayed that they would be sent to the same place.

Then, the soldier emerged from the tent, a happy look on his face. Wally saw it and thought: _Will that be me when I hear where Hal's going?_He walked forward into the tent, pushing he fabric aside. There was small table in the middle of the tent with several pieces of paper in several piles sitting on top of it.. Sitting behind it was a tall officer that must be a bodybuilder as Wally could clearly see the muscles through his uniform. Near the left side were two more tables were a few more officers were working. Wally walked over to the small table.

"Name?" the officer asked.

"Wallace Francis Burtt," Wally replied.

The officer searched through one of the pile of papers. Though the name was quite faded, Wally could just make out an S at the beginning of the word and an M about half-way through it. The officer finally picked up one of the papers and read through a list of names. After a few seconds, he stopped.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Wallace Burrt. You are assigned to the Somme,"

The Somme, the river near the Belgium border.

"Thank you, sir," Wally said to the officer.

He turned and walked out of the tent back outside. Okay so he had been told where he was going, but what about Hal? At this thought, worry began to fill him like water filling up a tank. He did not know where his brother would be sent. Hopefully to where he was going.

Wally looked over at Hal's tent, just in time to see him disappear inside it. Wally breathed in deeply. This was it. In the next minute or two, he would know where Hal was going. He just prayed in his mind that he was coming with him to the Somme.

Then, the fabric of the tent moved again and Hal emerged from it. He walked away and searched the area around him for a few moments before his eyes rested on Wally. Seeing his brother, Hal ran over to him, a worried look on his face as well. Wally gulped. This was it.

_Please God, let it be the Somme! _Wally thought anxiously. _Please be the Somme!_

"Please tell me your going to Ypres," Hal said to him.

Wally's heart fell. No!

"Well?" Hal asked him desperately.

A sad look came onto Wally's face. Seeing this, Hal's heart fell too.

"Your not going to Ypres are you," he said.

Wally shook his head.

"Are you at least going to be near Ypres?" Hal asked him desperately.

Again, Wally shook his head.

"I'm going to the Somme," he replied.

Hal took this in, the shock overwhelming him. He could not believe it, neither could Wally. This was the first time they would be apart from each other in something big. What was worse, this something was a war and it could claim either or even both of their lives. It was horrible to even think that one of them might not return home.

Wally rested a hand on his brother's shoulders.

"I'll miss you," he said.

Hal looked up at his older brother. He sniffed, knowing that this could be the last time he saw his brother.

"I'll miss you too," he replied.

The two hugged each other for a moment, knowing that this could, evidently, be the last time they saw each other.

After a moment, the two let go of each other. Hal sighed.

"Well…" he began. "I'll…I'll see you back at home on Christmas," he said.

Wally laughed a little but it quickly faded from him.

"Alright men, report to your trucks that'll take you to the front!" an officer announced loudly from near one of the tents in the middle of the field. "Somme troops, go to the trucks near the cobbled road. Ypres troops, head to the trucks on the left side of the field."

Wally and Hal looked back at each other.

"I'll be seeing you then," Wally said.

Hal nodded.

"Stay safe," he said.

Wally nodded and watched as his brother walked away towards the left side of the field. A few other soldiers were heading in the same direction. Wally sighed and headed towards the top of the field where a thin cobbled path separated it from a farmer's field on the other side of the path. Here a line of seven trucks were parked. Two of them were full with soldiers. The others were either empty or had one or two soldiers in them.

Wally reached the fourth truck, an empty one, and pulled himself in. He sat down on one of the seats and looked out through the rear entrance of the truck. He saw other soldiers were walking towards the trucks as well. He took one more look across the field and saw a group of soldiers head over towards a few trucks parked near the side of the field. He tried to see of Hal was among them but they disappeared from view behind one of the tents.

Wally sighed and slumped against the wall of the truck in his seat. This war may be quick, maybe only even a few days now, but he was worried that Hal would not come back.

He would just have to hope that luck was on his and his brother's side.


	12. Arriving at the front

**Later that day**

THUD!

The second truck in a convoy of eight jolted as it drove along the narrow road that ran through the fields that seemed to stretch on forever into the distance. THUD! The truck following behind hit a small hole but remained upright and drove on. Each truck was carrying about fifteen men, plus the driver, numbering to about 128 altogether, 120 of which would be thrown into battle. The clear sky had already begun to turn a different variety of colours comprising of red, gold and orange. It was about four o'clock. In the next half hour or so, the sky would be dark and the night would begin.

In the second truck of the convoy, Wally, who was sitting on the left side of the truck next to the back entrance, stirred. He groggily opened his eyes and rubbed them as he woke up and lifted his head away from the wall of the truck behind him. He had been asleep for most of the journey and was now most likely to be up for most of the night. Around him, the other soldiers were busy chatting amongst themselves.

Wally grunted as he sat up in his seat and put his arm through the strap of his rifle. William, who was sitting next to him, turned to face him.

"Ah good, your awake," he greeted. "Nobody here can hold a good conversation," he added.

Wally chuckled a bit as a few other soldiers sitting around the truck turned to face him as if he were someone important.

"So where are you from?" one soldier, a man about the same height as him with short black hair, green eyes and a small face, that was sitting across from him asked.

"Barham," Wally answered.

"Outside Dover?"

Wally nodded.

"I worked on a farm with my brother and parents," he said to the soldier. "What about you?"

"Worked as a carpenter in London," the soldier said to him. He held out his hand to him. "Name's Moe. Moe Harrison,"

"Nice to meet you," Wally shook his hand.

Moe leaned back against the wall of the truck.

"So, what do you think will happen when we get to the front?" he asked.

"Be thrown directly into battle hopefully," the soldier next to him answered.

Wally and a few other soldiers around the truck nodded. They were excited for the coming fight. They would soon be taking part in the battle that was to drive the Germans out of France and Belgium and bring an end to the war. Wally could see it now. In a few days' time, they would be standing victorious at the German border at the end of the war. They would all be heroes in serving in this quick game as it was being known as.

Wally sighed happily and looked out through the back of the truck. Already the sky was starting to turn dark. Soon, the stars would be out and they would be enveloped in a beautiful land, as if they were pulled into a tranquil landscape so calm and beautiful that it could only come from a fairy-tale.

"So anyone got any other family members serving out here?" he heard Moe ask.

At that thought, all the happiness of seeing this beautiful land instantly faded from him. Hal. He wondered what his brother was doing now. Probably on a truck heading for the front like he was. It was then the same worried thought came back to him. What if Hal did not make it through the war? What if him saying goodbye to his brother would be the last time they saw each other? Wally could not even think of what would happen if he was to receive news that his brother had been killed. He would not be able to live with himself.

"What about you, Wally?" Moe asked him.

Wally snapped out of his trance and looked back at him.

"Oh, uh…my brother, Hal," he said. "We both signed up and came over here."

"Is he here with us?"

"No, he's been sent to some place called…Ypres, I think it was,"

"Yeah, he was a nice person," William piped up.

Wally nodded in agreement.

"I just hope he lives through the war," he said.

"Ah, don' worry, Wally" William reassured his friend. "He'll be fine. It's only for a few days anyway. Before ya know it, we'll be back in jolly old England savouring the sweet taste of victory,"

"And the best bit of it, we'll be home on Christmas Day," Moe added.

The other soldiers chuckled slightly. Oh, this was going to be a great time this game! They would be fighting the Boche, freeing two countries and be back home just in time for the roast turkey to be taken out the oven. Wally could almost taste it now. The good thing was that his family would be there and they would be celebrating victory over the Germans.

After about another ten minutes, the trucks turned right onto another pathway, though this one was much thinner than the one they had just left. The vehicles jolted every now and then as they hit a few holes. When they reached the end of the road, the trucks turned right again, this time back onto a large cobbled road that led towards a village.

The men in the trucks were in for a shock.

When the convoy entered the city, the men in the second truck heard the driver say loudly: "Mother of God!" the men looked out through the back entrance and they were speechless, probably as shocked as the driver himself.

The village was in ruins. Complete ruins as if it had been destroyed by a fire. Although some houses were still standing, there was not one that was not seriously damaged. One building, that must have been a large set out houses, had a huge gaping hole in the front of it, a pile of ruins that had been the front wall of the building lay on the ground. The hole revealed all the floors and the remnants of the houses contents. As the trucks passed the houses, they saw the remains of a blacksmiths. The wide base of the stone chimney was all that was left of it. The rest of the chimney, along with the rest of the blacksmiths, had been destroyed completely. A little further down the road a few trees in what looked like a small park were either half destroyed, or fully uprooted! The men could not believe it. Whatever battle had taken place here must have been fierce for this much damage to be inflicted.

"Jesus Christ!" one of the soldiers in Wally's truck exclaimed. "We must have fought pretty hard for this village,"

"Well at least we've the kicked the Boche out of here, that's what counts," Moe told them. "Let's just hope there's enough fighting left to go around,"

Suddenly, the entire world around them, which a moment ago had started to turn pitch black as the night began to set in, seemed to spring to life with light. At once, all eyes in the backs, and even the drivers, of the trucks looked up to see some kind of flare ignite, lighting up the darkened land as if it were a new dawn.

_BOOM! BOOM! _Distant explosions filled the men's ears. They looked at the surrounding landscape with determination to try and find the source of the noise. In the distance, to their far left on the other side of the remains of what had been a large town hall, several white lights filled the night sky for about a millisecond before they went dark again.

"We must be close to a battle," William said as the men moved back into the truck.

"I hope we're winning," one of the soldiers replied. "Otherwise, we'll be torn to pieces,"

"Ah, don' worry about that, laddie," William reassured the soldier. "We'll win. We must have arrived just in time to help our boys finish the battle,"

THUD! The truck jolted again, though this time more violently, as it struck a small hole in the ground. When the truck had driven past the hole, the men looked out of the back of the truck to see a small crater, about three feet wide and two feet deep, etched into what had been the side of a road in the village, and that was only a small one. As the convoy drove further down the road, more holes, most of them much larger than the one the men in the second truck had seen, were scattered all over the ground. It was obvious this village had been shelled very badly during whatever battle had taken place here.

Finally, the trucks turned off the main road and through a smaller road that ran between what had been a small house and another building that was too damaged to recognize. Once they passed these two buildings, they found themselves out in a large field that seemed to stretch on forever. Far off in the distance, more white lights filled the air, followed by the just recognizable sound of explosions. They were getting close.

The trucks drove off the road and into the field. It was when they were about half-way across the field that the trucks' lights turned off and the vehicles started to drive in one direction for a few seconds and then continue on towards white lights. The men quickly noticed this. What the hell was gong on?

"Why are they driving like this?" William asked.

Before anyone could even take in what Will had said, the truck jolted again, this time, Wally and a few other soldiers ere thrown out of their seats to the floor. Wally groaned as he picked himself up from the floor.

"What the Hell was that?" he asked as he sat back down, rubbing the side of his head from where he had hit it.

"Maybe it was another shell hole," one of the other soldiers suggested.

THUD! The truck jolted again, though this time the soldiers managed held onto their seats. As they drove in a kind of semicircle-like shape around something, presumably another shell hole, they saw, faintly through the darkness, the truck behind them jolt and almost tip over! Luckily, it managed to stay upright and drove on.

After about ten minutes, the trucks finally came to a halt. The drivers exited their vehicles and lowered the barriers at the back entrances to the trucks. The men filled out of the vehicles two by two. When they were all out, an officer, who seemed to materialize from the darkness, walked up to them.

"This way, men," he ordered.

The officer turned and walked towards the now much larger white lights that illuminated the sky every few seconds. The men followed in lines of two. As they walked across the field, several of the men began to fall over and seemed to disappear for a moment or two before he would reappear. By the looks of it, this area was completely potted with shell holes, and they were starting to increase in number every yard the squad moved closer to the lights.

It was when they were about two hundred metres or so from the trucks when their feet began to get stuck into the ground. Wally almost fell over when he could not lift his left foot and when he finally broke free of the ground, he saw that his boots were covered with mud. Not the mud he and his group had used during the training in England, no. This one was more like clay. It stuck to him and looked very thick. He looked over his shoulder and saw other men getting stuck in the same situation.

"Come on, come on," the officer ordered as he looked over his shoulder at the men who were struggling to get through the mud that was like thick clay.

Using all their strength, the men followed, slipping and sliding and skidding, the officer onwards and, after about another fifty metres, they saw the outline of what looked like a kind of long tunnel driving through the ground with an open top and the earth as the walls. As they walked into the tunnel, their feet began to pound loudly on what sounded like wooden boards. Wally looked around him and saw several large holes, big enough for a man to fit into, etched into the earth walls. In some of the holes there were men, some of who were sleeping but others were awake and were either reading, using a candle that was at the back of the holes, or watching the newcomers with wide mad eyes as if they were insane. Wally began to feel anxious at being in a place like this. All these men looked like they had gone through something terrible. Something in the looks of their eyes even seemed to tell him that they were to suffer the same fate.

The officer turned right into another open topped tunnel. The men followed him. This one had several large dugout entrances along both sides. A few faint lights illuminated from some of them and every now and then, as the men passed, voices could be heard.

Wally took in the scenes around him. It now became obvious where they were. They were not in a tunnel. They were in a trench, or some kind of trench system. It was obviously a big one as they were still quite a distance from the white lights, which were starter to get brighter, along with the explosions as they too were beginning to get louder.

The men turned left after about twenty feet into another trench. This section was much longer and had more holes along the sides and even a few large square shaped openings, about two or three metres deep and the same in length etched under the earth and wooden, to support in holding up the ground, roofs. As the men passed them, they saw these openings held wounded, about two or three in each one and every new one they passed seemed to contain men with more horrific wounds than the last. Just as they were about to reach the end, Moe looked into one of the openings next to him and saw one soldier with a white bandage wrapped around his face. The top of it, around where his nose and probably his eyes were, was stained dark. It was obvious to him what the dark stain was and he grimaced and looked away.

The men reached the end of the section of the trench and found themselves in another section that seemed to stretch on forever in both directions and had many turns and twists but still carried on both left and right endlessly. Opposite the opening the men emerged from was a long earth wall, many parts of it lined with wooden boards but some areas left bare for the earth to be shown, that, like the trench, stretched on for as far as the eye could see in both directions. At the top of the earth wall was a long tangle of circular metal that was just distinctly recognizable as wire that had several openings in it every few tens of metres and on the trench side of these openings were openings in the earth wall that had steps lead from the openings in the barbed wire down to the trench floor.

"Alright, lads," the officer announced, bringing the men to a halt. "I'll be assigning you to your regiments so don't think your stating together with yer' mates."

The officer then walked up to each man and said something to him and pointed either further up or down the trench or to a nearby dugout entrance and the soldier headed in that direction. Wally was about twenty men from the start but the officer was going through them very quickly. Not long after he started telling the men where to go he reached Wally.

"You're going to Parkinson's regiment in there," he said, pointing to a nearby dugout entrance on the earth wall to his right.

Wally nodded and walked over to it, having to bend low slightly as he walked through the entrance. He found himself in a large square shaped room with a large wooden table in the middle of the room. A few crates under the table made up for chairs. Along the left and right walls of the room were small wooden beds. Underneath one of them was small box, indicating someone else was here as well, probably this Parkinson person. On the wall in the top left corner of the room opposite Wally was another opening that led into some kind of short tunnel. At the other end of the tunnel was another room, which was smaller than the one Wally was in. A small bulb hung from the ceiling.

Wally stepped into the room and walked over to one of the beds along the left wall. He set his backpack and rifle down on them and sat down on his bed and gazed at the surrounding room. A few empty mugs were on a shelf on the wall not far from the dugout entrance. Hanging on one of the few hooks next to the shelf was a spade.

Loud footsteps from the dugout entrance drew his attention. From the doorway, another man stepped into the room.

"Hey, Moe," Wally said as he got up greeting his friend. "You're here as well,"

"Yep," he replied as he walked over to the bed next to Wally's and set his things down on it. "Wonder where the captain is,"

"Should we go find him?" Wally asked his friend.

Moe shook his head.

"Nah, we'll leave him for now," he told Wally. "He's probably doing something so we best not disturb h-"

He was suddenly cut off by more loud footsteps from outside. The two looked over at the dugout entrance. The footsteps stopped and were replaced by voices, two by the sounds of them. One of the voices said goodbye to the other and the footsteps filled the air again as one of them walked away, the sound of marching feet fading away into the night air. Just as the footsteps died away, another man walked into the dugout. He was about 6ft 2 with short black hair. He had brown eyes and a strong looking face. His body was heavily built, is muscles were visible through his uniform's sleeves. Looking at him reminded the two of Gomer back in Dover, only this man was much taller. He looked up at the two.

"Oh, new arrivals?" he inquired.

The two nodded.

"Well, nice to meet yer, boys," he said. He walked over to the two and held up his hand. "I'm Hans. Hans Gibbs,"

"Moe Harrison," Moe said as he shook his hand.

"Wallace Burtt, or Wally, for short," Wally said as he shook Hans' hand.

Hans smiled and walked over to the table and pulled out one of the crates and sat down on it. He grunted as he took off his backpack and rifle and placed both on the table. He turned back to the two.

"So what d'you two do before the war?" he asked.

"Carpeting, from London," Moe replied. "Worked with my father,"

Hans nodded and turned to Wally.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Worked on my parents' farm with my brother," he answered.

"Is your brother here with you?"

"No, he's up in Ypres,"

"Oh,"

"So what did you do before the war?" Moe asked Hans, taking over the conversation.

"Blacksmith in Southampton," Hans replied. He patted his muscled arms. "You can probably see that," he chuckled slightly. "Worked with one of my friends there since we left school at fourteen about five years ago," he concluded.

The three were silent for a few moments before Moe got the conversation going again.

"Do you know where the captain is?" he asked Hans.

"He's got some business to deal with further back on the line," Hans told him. "He won't be back until later on,"

The silence filled the room again. A moment passed. Two moments, three.

"So how long have you been here?" Wally asked Hans.

"Only arrived yesterday," he replied. "Haven't really seen much, but I'm still glad I joined up,"

The other two nodded in agreement.

" Well, I hope we get into conflict soon," Moe said. "I can't wait to send the Huns packing,"

"Neither can I," Wally replied. "I can just imagine the country when we return on Christmas Day. Everyone'll probably end up getting drunk,"

The three laughed at Wally's joke.

Outside, the men settled down for the night. In the far off distance, the last of the white lights began to fade away, leaving the darkness to claim the land once more.


	13. First taste of combat

**The next day**

A new day had dawned for the men serving on the front in France. Grey clouds hung in the sky, partially blocking out the light from the Sun that had slowly risen into the sky. There would usually be Mother Nature waking up to a new day in this year's winter, but the war had stopped that, for the time being at least. Well, that was to the new recruits. To them, this was to be their first day of driving the Germans back to their country and ending the war. However, the soldiers that had been fighting in France since the start of the war knew better.

From one of the many dugouts along the trench, a soldier emerged. It was Wally. He walked away from the dugout entrance to allow Moe and Hans to exit. They were all dressed in their uniforms, having to sleep in them. Their captain had already left just before they got up but he had woken up Hans and told him to tell the new arrivals to get ready and line up outside so he could introduce him to them.

"Well, this is it," Wally said to Moe and Hans. "This is our first day of combat,"

"I can't wait to give the Boche a good kicking," Moe replied, climbing onto a level of mud, about two feet high, that ran endlessly of the trench, and looking over the top of the trench at the landscape on the other side of the barbed wire.

He could not believe his eyes. The entire place was a wasteland of mud, much of it was dry and hard but there were still pools and wet patches of the mucky stuff scattered about. There were even a few dead trees still standing, their branches completely bare of leaves. At first glance, it looked like the winter had done that but then Moe realised that the sides of the tree were charcoal black and that there were several large branches missing from the tree.

"Wow!" he gasped, taking in the wasteland scene around him. "It's like Hell out there. There's not a living thing for miles around."

"I'd get down if I were you," a voice said.

Moe, Wally and Hans looked towards the long section of trench that led down to this trench to see a tall officer, who looked to be about thirty, with black hair, though it was starting to grey in some areas, with blue eyes was at least 6ft 2 like Hans, maybe 6ft 2 and a half. He was quite thin as well but he held a stern look in his eyes that easily seemed to show he was the type of person who was strict and did not like slackers or weaklings, reminding Moe of his maths teacher at his school. In his hand was a pistol, a Webley Mk IV revolver which was pointed down at the ground. In his other hand was a pocket sized book with a brown covering and had, in white writing, titled _Testaments and the Psalms_, a Bible.

The officer put the book inside his chest pocket and placed his pistol back into a strap on his belt. He walked over to Moe, who had gotten down and Wally, searching them with his pale blue eyes.

"New recruits, I presume?" he inquired.

They nodded. He smiled and held out his hand.

"I'm Adam. Adam Parkinson," he said.

Moe and Wally looked at each other, seeing which of them would go first to address their officer. Finally, Moe plucked up the courage and shook Adam's hand.

"Moe Harrison, sir," he said.

Adam let go and held up his hand to Wally, who shook it.

"Wallace Burtt," he said. "Or I prefer to be called Wally," he added.

Adam nodded and let go of Wally's hand and lowered his back to his side.

"So, are you two prepared to give the Huns a good kicking?" he asked them in a voice that acted as if it were a parent trying to excite a child.

"Yes, sir," Moe answered and Wally nodded.

"Good, good," Adam said. "Well, I'm just going back into the dugout. Be a moment,"

He walked past the three and disappeared into the dugout.

"He seems nice," Wally said.

"He can be," Hans told him. "As long as you don't wind him up,"

Moe sat down on the lower level of mud that formed some kind of ever-stretching seat in the trench

"I would rather have had him in training than Gomer," he said to which Wally nodded in reply.

"Definitely," he said.

"Why, what happened?" Hans asked them.

"When we arrived in Dover for training, we got an officer called Gomer," Wally explained. "He was annoying and was too strict because he took his power he had over us too far."

"And he made Wally train at night by stepping on his toes," Moe added. "But we got 'im back in the end. Gave him a taste of his own medicine," He chuckled a bit.

"We gave him a nickname. Gofer." Wally added, laughing a bit now.

"We have a nickname for Adam," Hans told them. "We call him Auto,"

"Why?" Wally asked.

"Because he's one of these people that seem to have endless bags of energy," Hans explained. "He's up earlier than most men in this trench and doesn't go to sleep until late at night and even the next morning he's still active as if he's had a good night sleep. Also, we get given a plan for an attack then he's working on it straight away," he concluded.

"Well, let's hope he's automatic when it comes to battle." Moe joked, making the three laugh.

Further down the trench, a soldier, kneeling down on the mud seat, was looking through some kind of hand held periscope across the wasteland. An officer walked up to him.

"Anything yet?" he asked the soldier.

"Nothing yet, sir," the soldier replied.

"Alright, keep checking,"

The officer went to walk away when…

WHOOSH! BOOM!

Something exploded a few metres in front of the trench. The soldier threw his head to the ground and kept it there as more explosions erupted on the ground between the other sections of the trench and even in the trench itself. A few screams erupted as some men were hit and fell to the ground, some being killed instantly but others receiving wounds in their arms, legs or chests or even in the stomachs were it was most painful.

Wally, Moe and Hans pressed themselves against the wooden wall of the trench above the long mud seat. More explosions erupted around them. A few soldiers ran past them and dived into any nearby cover as quickly as they could. Those that were not quick enough became targets. One soldier that ran past towards the long section of trench that led down to the front was caught in an explosion. He let out a cry of pain before falling to the ground and he lay still.

"GET DOWN! GET TO COVER!" an officer a few metres further up the trench shouted to a group of men hiding in a large hole in the wall of another section of trench that led away from the wasteland.

Suddenly, an explosion erupted on the barbed wire near the officer and he was thrown to the ground, landing face down on the wood. He did not rise or move again as blood trickled from a wound on the side of his head.

Adam came running out of the dugout and launched himself against the mud wall next to Moe. He had his pistol in one hand.

"What's the Hell's going on, sir?" Moe asked Adam, having to shout over the noise of the whooshes and explosions.

"Shelling!" Adam shouted back. "The Germans are shelling us!"

WHOOSH BOOM! Another shell flew over their heads and landed about fifty feet behind them, creating a loud explosion and throwing a cloud of mud and bits of wood into the air. Another scream emitted from where it hit, indicating someone else had hit. Hopefully, he was still alive but that was a very small possibility.

The shelling seemed endless. Explosions erupted everywhere. Wally lifted his head up slightly to see another shell land further down the trench and a soldier fall backwards onto the grounds. He yelled in pain. He tried to move his arm but could not. It was horrible.

Finally, as quickly as it came, the shelling subsided. A second of quietness passed before Adam lifted his head and looked around him to assess the damage. A few large chunks of the trench's walls had been torn apart. A few men either side of them lay dead on the ground. Someone shouted "Stretcher bearers!" and two men holding a stretcher appeared from the section of trench that led to the rear trenches and picked up the injured man Wally had seen fall to the ground and placed him on the stretcher and ran back into the long section of trench, disappearing from sight.

Adam stood up and turned to his three men.

"It's alright," he said. "It's over,"

Moe, Wally and Hans slowly stood up and looked around them, taking in the damage done to the trenches. They could not believe it. In a handful of minutes, the trench had been torn apart by just a small barrage of shells.

Wally tried to say something but the words got lost in his mouth. Moe and Hans were feeling the same way.

"This is only a small barrage," Adam said to them. "This is nothing compared to other barrages,"

Suddenly, a loud whistle filled the air. At once, more men appeared from the many dugouts along the trench or from other sections that went back to the rear trenches and rushed over to the front. Each one of them was carrying a rifle. They stepped onto the long mud seat and raised their rifles over the parapet, aiming into the wasteland.

"Right, c'mon boys, up you get," Adam said to his three men.

They stood up and, like all the other men around them, aimed their rifles out into the wasteland. A grey mist hung in the air not too far ahead of them. Wally looked up and down the wasteland and saw nothing. What were they waiting for?

Then, a wall of figures began to form in the mist, and they were becoming clearer every second…because they were closer! As they emerged from the mist, Wally saw they had grey uniforms on with small round grey helmets, some had a kind of small spike sticking out of the top, on their heads. They were all carrying rifles and were charging towards the trench. It was the Germans.

At once, a chorus of gunfire filled the air as men either side of Wally began to fire on the approaching horde of German soldiers. Many of them were hit and fell to the ground, some disappearing from sight, never to rise again. However, more of them just kept coming, and they just kept moving on despite being fired upon.

"Give 'em Hell, lads," an officer shouted to the men in order to raise their morale.

Wally had his rifle raised and his finger on the trigger. There were hordes of enemies coming towards him. He could fire on any of them, he could not miss.

"Wally, there's one Jerry with a grenade," Adam shouted to him, pointing out to one German, who had his rifle in one hand and a small stick-like object in the other, who was starting to slow down on his run. "Take him out!" Adam ordered.

Wally nodded and aimed his rifle at the German. Now he just had fire.

What? He tried to fire but…i-it just seemed his finger was refusing to obey him. He looked out at the German who was kneeling down now about half-way between the mist and the trench and was preparing to throw his grenade. His mind gave itself a mental slap and shouted at him to fire. Wally tried to. What, It's happening again? Why was he not firing?

Then, a feeling of guilt swept over him. He could easily kill the German, but…but he just could not do it! He could not bring himself to fire on another Human being! No. He could not do it!

"What are you waiting for, Wally?" Adam shouted at him. "Fire on that bastard, quickly!"

Wally paused for a second and looked at Adam and then back at the German. Just as he did, Adam growled and thrust his rifle from his hand, aimed out at the German, who had thrown his grenade and was advancing with his comrades towards the trench, and fired. The German's mouth opened up wide and he crumpled forward onto the ground, dead.

Then, the Germans, who now very much diminished after the failed attack, turned and ran back towards the mist, which was beginning to clear. As they ran, some of them half turned and fired another shot or two back at the British, who were still firing on the now retreating Germans.

Adam turned to Wally, grabbed him by the neck of his uniform and pulled him close to him.

"Why did not fire on them?" he hissed at Wally.

Wally did not answer. He could not explain it himself. His mind seemed to scream at him; _Why didn't you fire on the Germans, you idiot? _

Before Adam could say anything else, another whistle filled the air.

"Over we go, lads!" an officer shouted, rushing ahead of the men as he climbed over the parapet with his pistol waving and shouting "Come on, lads! Come on!" at the men.

Adam sighed through gritted teeth.

"Right, come on!" he said in a frustrated tone.

He thrust Wally's rifle back into his hand and pulled him over to the parapet. Wally, with Auto giving him a quick boost, quickly pulled himself up. Instantly, the scene in front of him hit him like a sledgehammer.

It was not the mud or destroyed tree nearby or anything like that, but it was the shell holes. Some of them were small, but even from here he was even more shocked by what was in them.

"Come on, Wally!" Moe, who was about twenty feet ahead of him, shouted.

Wally breathed in and ran across the landscape after his friend. Adam ran after him, but was stopped by a group of other soldiers who were struggling to keep up as their boots were coated with the thick sludge that was supposed to be mud. More like clay, just with a different damn colour.

Just as Wally reached where the mist, which had now fully cleared, revealing to the British soldiers what was ahead of them, had been he passed a shell hole. Something in it caught his eye. He stopped and looked into the shell hole. Oh God!

It was a body. A body of one of the Germans. By the looks of it, he must have been one of those killed when they were charging towards the British line moments ago. He could see a small hole in the centre of his forehead. Wally sighed. At least he was killed instantly-wait a minute, why the Hell was he feeling sorry for this German soldier? His people had invaded another country that wanted to remain neutral!

Then, he felt that feeling again. He could not help but feel sorry for the German soldier. He took another look at the soldier and saw that he looked very young, at least to be in his early twenties. He probably had a wife and kids at home in Germany. If they did, then his wife was without a lover and his kids were without a father. Just thinking about it made him shudder and feel sorry for this man's family.

"Wally! Get moving!" Adam's voice shouted, snapping him back into reality.

Wally ran ahead, now far from the other soldiers who were about twenty feet ahead of him. As he ran after them, his eyes began to make out many curved silver heads that were just visible above the ground level, showing that they were in some kind of tunnel or large shell hole, and several tall piles of sandbags, all of this stretching forever in both directions. In front of the sandbags and the curved silver heads was a line of barbed wire that stretched on as far as the eye could see both left and right. Wally also saw a few figures crouched behind a sandbag wall between a few curved silver heads either side of it. A large weapon was sticking out through an opening on the front of the sandbag wall. It…it looked…like…oh no! It was a machine gun!

Then he realised something else. If there were several sandbag walls, curved silver heads just visible above the ground and the barbed wire not far from the British trenches, then it only meant one thing.

The Germans had trenches as well.

The machine gun's chattering filled Wally's ears as he got closer. He could see one of the Germans manning the weapon turn it in both directions, and every time it did one or two or even more soldiers, which Wally could see in his peripheral vision, fell to the ground riddled with bullets. One soldier who was just feet from the barbed wire was hit by a single bullet as one of the silver heads rose up, revealing the face of a German soldier and the barrel of his rifle, and fired at him. The soldier did not even have time to yell before he fell to the ground, dead.

Wally could not believe what he seeing! They were still charging forward and they were being mown down by the enemy. This was a suicidal attack!

"Back lads! Back!" an officer, who had a loud voice which was still a miracle it was heard over the noise of the battle, shouted.

The remaining men, now numbering about twenty five from the original sixty being launched into the attack, turned and ran back towards the British trenches. Wally stopped where he was and waited for a second, searching the faces of the survivors to see if he could see his friends. He saw Moe and Hans as they were near the middle of the group of survivors. They were unhurt. Wally breathed a quick sigh of relief, knowing that they were safe, turned and ran back towards the trench. He could not see Adam, though. What if he had been killed?

Wally ran through an opening in the barbed wire and jumped pat the steps to the wooden trench floor, almost slipping up as he landed. He stood back onto the mud seat and watched the survivors come back. Now there were only twenty two of them left, obviously meaning another three had died on the way back.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him over towards the dugout entrance. Wally managed to catch a quick glimpse of the person who had hold of him. It was Adam. Before he could protest, he threw him against the wall of the dugout.

"What do you think you were doing out there, you berk!" he shouted at Wally.

Wally did not reply. He just stood there, shaking from the shock of suddenly being thrown against a wall.

"You didn't fire on them and you almost got yourself killed!" he shouted at him again. He poked Wally hard in the chest and leaned forward to him so his face, now red with anger, was inches from Wally's. "I don't know what you think you're playing at!" he hissed dangerously at him. "But you better start toughing up a bit; otherwise you'll be getting a bullet in the back of the head from me for being a coward! And I especially do not like cowards!"

With that, turned and stormed off out of the dugout. When he disappeared from sight, Wally, who was still affected from the shock, walked over to his bed and sat down.

He could not believe it! This was not the war he had been expecting! This was not a quick mobile war as the British government had made it look, it was damn trench warfare, and if there was something else he knew, this war had been told it would be over by Christmas. Seeing this blew all of that away instantly from Wally's mind. He knew all of this would not be over by Christmas.

"This war being fun and games is all a lie!" he said to himself.

Outside, the Sun began to rise higher into the sky, shining down over the wasteland that was covered with shell holes, dead trees and dead bodies of men having been killed. All of these men having been killed over just one hundred feet of mud, and this would not be the last day more men died for this ground. There was no doubt more tomorrow was to follow the same route as today.


	14. A Christmas Truce

**Three weeks later**

**Evening of December 24th, 1914**

**Northwest of Thiepval, Somme River**

Darkness had descended France. The sky was filled the millions of stars that shone brightly as if revealing the beauty and tranquillity of Space itself. It was a great night for the people of Europe, and it was special night as well. Tonight was Christmas Eve. In about other twelve or so hours, the whole of France, Britain and many other countries would be waking up to celebrate Christmas Day.

If only the same could be said for the soldiers in the trenches.

Still, the fighting was going on. In fact, the trenches here in the Somme were only a tiny spot, maybe not even that, compared to the full scale of the trenches that were now forming two lines, one English and French and the other German. They stretched down from the Channel coast in Belgium, through the northeast of France and then down along the French-German border, part of it actually going into Germany, before halting at the northern border of Switzerland, making it well over 400 miles long. These two opposing trenches filled with opposing armies were now known as the Western Front.

In a British trench northwest of Thiepval, all was pretty much quiet, save for a few men talking outside or voices coming from inside the many dugouts. One soldier, who was in a large square shaped hole, a medical post, in the section of trench that led from the frontline to the rear trenches, was groaning slightly in his sleep. He had a bloodied bandage around his leg from where he had been wounded by shrapnel from a shell. The medic was curled up, sleeping in a hole just across from him. He had given the soldier some morphine and had been able to remove most of the shrapnel as it stuck out from his leg before bandaging it up and telling him to get some rest. All the other soldiers were following the medic's advice and had already gone back to their dugouts to get some sleep.

However, one soldier could not sleep and neither could his two friends.

Sitting on the long mud seat in the trench was Wally. He had a small candle next to him and he was using the light from the tiny flame to read a book. It was _Oliver Twist_ by Charles Dickens, one of his favourite authors. A few feet up from him was Moe and William, who were sitting with their knees up close to them on the mud seat. Hans was already asleep in the dugout. Adam was further up the trench.

Wally turned over the page in his book. He read on whilst Moe and William sat silently as if waiting for something. A few mutters emitted from the nearby dugouts keeping away the silence of the night that hung around the three.

"Uuuugghhh!"

The moan rolled seemed to roll across the landscape. Oh no! Wally tried to focus on his book but another moan made him shut it without putting in his book mark, but he did not care. Moe and William had their hands over their ears to try and block out the sound of the moans, but to no avail.

The moaning was coming from a wounded soldier out in the wasteland, now known to the new arrivals as No Man's Land as neither side had claimed it in the fighting so far, and Wally could not see how claiming it would change the outcome of the war as the Germans had rear trenches just like the British did. The soldier had arrived about ten days ago. His name was Sebastian, a brown haired eighteen year old from somewhere in Cornwall. He had not seen much action since he had arrived here, until about two days ago. The Germans had launched an attack, the third in about two weeks, but were driven back and the English chased after them, only to be met with the same result. During the retreat, Sebastian had been hit in the legs by machine gun bullets and since then has been laying out there bleeding to death. A group of soldiers had tried to rescue him but the Germans had brought up a searchlight, as they too could hear him moaning, and they fired on them, killing one of them. Since then, no one had dared go out to rescue him and even if they did, they had to run almost half way across No Man's Land to get to him and then bring him back without being killed.

However, it seemed that the Germans were beginning to regret the decision of preventing the rescue party from getting to the soldier. They had been listening to his moans for the past two days as well and it was starting to get to them as Sebastian kept them awake well on through the night. Both sides had thought he died about an hour ago when his moans stopped. Obviously he must have passed out and just woken up.

"Why doesn't he stop?" William asked himself in a tone that sounded sad and stressed. "Why won't he just die?"

Neither Wally nor Moe replied, they just placed their hands over their ears and hoped it would block out the moaning. It did not. Sebastian's moans seemed to go right through their fingers as if they were not even there. They just wanted him to stop. They wanted to rescue him, but no one was risking going out to save him. They would be killed, or worse, end up like Sebastian.

"Uuuugh! Ooooooooh!"

That seemed to draw William's last straw.

"I can't take it anymore!"

He stood up, not caring whether the Germans had any snipers looking at their trench, raised his rifle and fired. The sound of the shot rolled across the ever stretching pitch black darkness that seemed to cover the entire world. At once, Sebastian went quiet. William gasped a little and, shaking, stepped down from the mud seat and walked past the two over to another dugout about twenty feet further up the trench from theirs. Moe and Wally's eyes followed him but they said nothing over what he had just done.

"I think I'll climb in as well," Moe said to Wally.

He stood up and walked over to their dugout and disappeared. Wally slammed his book down on the mud seat and rubbed a hand down his face, holding it at his mouth, his fingers stretching out and clutching his face as if he were trying to rip it off. Why were they still here? He had seen tens of men be killed here, and it was all for nothing! They had been here at least three weeks and not advanced or gained a single yard! All these men…they were all dying for nothing.

Wally sighed and rested his back against the mud wall behind him. This war, this new life. He did not want it anymore. He just wanted to go home. Oh, don't be so stupid. It was not going to be a case of getting up and walking out of the army. He would be shot for deserting and he would be proving himself to be a coward, but right now he just did not care. He just wanted to go home, back to his normal life working on the farm.

He sighed again. His eyelids began to grow heavy. He had barely gotten any sleep last night, mainly because the Germans had fired a barrage at their trench for most of the night. He tried to stay awake, but his body gave in to the growing urge to shut his eyes and get some rest. Just for a few minutes, at least!

**xxxxx**  
_Wally found himself walking down a snow covered path, still dressed in his army uniform. Either side of him, the fields were like white sheets that seemed to stretch on forever. Walking alongside him was Hal, who was talking about the quick and decisive battles he had witnessed and even been through up at Ypres. Wally was shocked. How had they suddenly appeared back at home? _

_Then, they stopped at the entrance to a large clearing that was also covered in about three inches of snow. On the other side of the clearing ahead of them was a farmhouse. Their farmhouse. Hal promptly stopped talking and they smiled. They were home. _

"_Wally! Hal!" a voice called._

_The front door of the farmhouse opened and their father John, dressed in a kind of tuxedo-like shirt with black trousers, waved to them. In his hand was his walking stick. Wally and Hal rushed and embraced their father. _

"_Oh, I'm so glad you two are home," he said as they let go. "Come in. Your mother's almost finished with the turkey. _

_John led his two boys back inside and down a long corridor, which held two doorways, one either side leading to front rooms, to the kitchen at the back. They saw their mother, Mary, who was dressed in a yellow dress, laying the table. Set out on different plates was vegetables, stuffing, mashed potatoes, all kinds of food you needed for a Christmas dinner. She too smiled when she saw her two boys enter._

"_Oh, good, your back!" she exclaimed, hugging both of them and giving them a kiss. "Oh, you two look so handsome in your army uniforms. You remind me of your father when he came back from the Boer War,"_

_They all chuckled._

"_Right, boys," John said to them. "Head upstairs and get changed out of those clothes. Your mother's left you some new ones on your beds,"_

_"Thank you," Wally and Hal replied in unison._

_They walked up the stairs to their room. They felt like they were entering their childhood as they entered it. On both of their beds was a pile of newly folded clothe of what their parents had gotten them for Christmas. Wally sighed happily and walked over to his bed. He was glad to be back home. The war was over and everyone was coming ho-_

_Suddenly, he was forcefully turned round so he was facing Hal. However, his brother had a look of disappointment on his face._

_"Wally!" he growled, shaking him slightly. "Wally!"_

_Wally tried to ask his brother what he was doing, but he could not for some reason. What was going on?_

_"Wally!" Hal repeated, shaking him harder and his voice started to get angrier. "Wally!" His brother slapped him across the cheek._

**xxxxxx**

"Wally!"

Wally gasped loudly as his eyes shot open. Standing over him was Adam. He had woken him up from a dream.

"Uuuh, hello, sir," Wally said

"Cut the talking!" Adam barked. "Have you heard anything from the Boche?" he asked him.

"N-no, nothing yet sir," Wally replied. "Well, I couldn't anyway because of Seba-"

"Oh for goodness sake!" Adam hissed. He sighed and took a deep breath to calm down. "Well keep your ears open!" he said to Wally as if sounding everything was all his fault. "And whatever you do, Do! Not! Fall! Asleep!"

Adam marched off past him, heading off further up the trench. Wally sighed and buried his face in his hands. He was getting sick of this. It was all hopeless. This war was hopeless and all of these men were dying for nothing. It was just pointless! He just had enough of this God dam trench warfare that was leading neither them nor the Germans any closer to victory. He would give anything to go home. His rifle, his job in the army. He would even admit in front of every soldier that he would rather be a coward then be out here. He just wanted to go home. Go home and be with his brother and his family again and go back to their normal lives.

Wally sighed again and stood up. He picked up his candle and blew it out, the last bit of light, as if it were the last in the entire world, disappeared in an instant. He then picked up his book and turned to walk back to the dugout.

"_Stille nacht…"_

Wally stopped dead as if he was suddenly frozen. What was that? It sounded like some kind of musical tone. Singing? Yes, it sounded like singing, but who was singing it?

"_Heilige nacht…"  
_

There it was again, only this time it sounded much louder.

_Is someone playing a joke on me? _Wally thought as he looked in front and behind him down the trench. No one appeared to be up to any mischief, but he was certainly not hearing things. Someone was singing but the question was; who?

Then, he recognized something about the singing. It was in German, and the only places for German around here were…

Wally rushed over to the mud seat, dropping his book and candle on the floor, and stood up, looking over the parapet out across No Man's Land. He could not believe what he was seeing.

Several candle lights were hovering in the air a few inches above the German trench. More of them appeared. Ten! Fifteen! _Twenty_! Then, he saw they were being held up by German soldiers! What the Hell? They were holding candles up and...and singing?

"_Alles schläft; einsam wacht. Nur das traute hocheilige paar. Holder knabe im lockigen harr,"_

He could not believe it! They were singing. A sense of happiness washed over him. Then, to his astonishment, some of the Germans actually began standing up and getting out of the trenches into No Man's Land. They still held their candles in front of them.

"_Schlaf in himmlischer_ _ruh! Schlaf in himmlischer ruh!"_

"What the Hell is going on?" a voice from the trench shouted.

Another soldier rushed up to the mud seat and looked out across No Man's Land.

"Bloody Hell!" he gasped. "The Huns are getting up from their trenches and holding candles!"

He jumped down and began shouting down the trench what he had just seen. Wally watched him and saw several soldiers emerge from the dugouts and from the sections of trench that led to the rear trenches to see what all the commotion was about.

_To Hell with it! _Wally thought.

He was probably going to get in big trouble for this, but he did not care. These Germans were singing to them and even going as far to walk out to them across No Man's Land from the safety of their trenches. They were not coming here to fight. They wanted a truce. A Christmas Truce.

Wally hoisted himself up and stood up on the parapet of the trench. Many gasps erupted from behind.

"Wally, what the Hell are you doin' ya' fool?" a voice he recognized as William's shouted.

William rushed down the trench towards Wally to pull him back into the trench before he got shot by one of the Germans.

However, someone else got to him first.

Wally was about to walk through an opening in the barbed wire ahead of him when he was suddenly stopped. A hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the trench, almost making him fall in. He looked behind him and saw Adam standing on the mud seat, a look of fury on his face.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed at Wally.

Wally pulled his arm out of Auto's grasp and gave him an angry look. He looked as though he was going to swing a punch at him.

Instead, before Adam could blink, he grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and threw it into Adam's face. Adam fell backwards with a crash, landing on top of Wally's candle and book that lay on the trench floor and cursed loudly, spitting as he wiped some of the mud from his mouth.

"You-(spit)-you ba-(spit)-bastard!" he shouted.

When he had rubbed the mud from his eyes, he shot up and stood back onto the mud seat, just in time to see Wally walk through the opening in the barbed wire and out into No Man's Land.

"Fine! Get yourself killed!" Adam shouted at him. He turned to see a few other soldiers also standing on the mud seat, watching Wally walk over to the Germans to greet them. "The rest of you get back in the trench!" he barked at them.

None of the soldiers obeyed him. In fact, one of them climbed out of the trench, threw his rifle down onto the ground, and walked out into No Man's Land after Wally.

"I said get back in the trench!" Adam repeated, starting to shout. Moe and Hans walked up to the mud seat, but he stood in front of them. "Get back in the dugout, this instance!" he hissed at them.

Moe responded by sticking his two middle fingers up at him (giving him the V sign) and pushed past him and climbed out of the trench; Hans followed. Adam gritted his teeth in anger but said nothing as he saw other men climb out into No Man's Land. A few other officers appeared and tried to stop them but they got the same response as Adam got with Moe. This was unbelievable! Their soldiers were climbing out of the trenches to greet the enemy! This was outrageous!

Wally, meanwhile, had reached the first German that had walked out ahead of his group and shook his hand.

"Vally?" the German inquired. "Is that you?"

"How do you know my name?" Wally asked the German.

The German answered by lifting up his candle, allowing the light to reveal his face. Wally went wide eyed. The short face, brown hair, brown eyes and small moustache were on the same face he had seen many times back in Barham in England. It was Franz Adler.

"Franz!" Wally exclaimed. "What are…how did you…why are you here?" he asked him.

"I had to return to Germany vhen my father was ill," he replied. "It vas very unfortunate that this var happened and, vell, I had to fight for my country and so I joined up into the army,"

"Oh," Wally was a bit shocked to see that someone he personally knew was fighting on the opposing army, but he quickly shook that from his head. Tonight, he was going to talk with an old friend. "Oh, that doesn't matter. It's good to see you again,"

Wally embraced his friend tightly, who returned the compliment. They had not seen each other for a long time. Wally had found it difficult adapting to life when he was not going to Franz's German lessons almost every evening, but now they could catch up on old times.

"So how is your favher?" Franz asked Wally as they let go of each other.

"He's fine," Wally replied. "Still suffers from his leg a bit, but he's okay,"

"Good,"

The two looked around them and saw the rest of their groups coming together, shaking hands with one another and talking. Wally sighed happily. The soldiers of two great nations coming together and talking as if they were friends in the middle of a war. It was almost unheard of for this to happen, but it was good.

Wally looked back at Franz. His description shocked him. His eyes were slightly red from lack of sleep and he look like he was ill. The war had made him look older. Even though Franz was 35, it having been his thirty fifth birthday in August, he looked to be in his middle/late forties. It was really shocking to see. Then again, Wally looked the same way. His eyes too were red from lack of sleep, he looked ill and his skin was dirty. He looked to be in his late twenties, early thirties. It was amazing, and shocking, what war could do to someone.

Franz reached into his jacket's back pocket and took out a small case filled with cigarettes. He offered one to Wally, who politely declined.

"Ah, you still do not have the habit," Franz said, chuckling slightly. He took out a lighter and lit his cigarette. "Vell, it is good you have resisted. It is not a good habit,"

He took a puff from the cigarette and blew the smoke into the night sky. The two were silent as the noise of the other British and German soldiers talking filled the air.

"Vhat do you plan to do when this var is over?" Franz asked Wally after a few moments silence.

"Go back home and work on the farm, most probably," he replied. "What about you?" he asked.

"I might come back and ve-open my fruit shop," Franz answered. He sighed. "I vould give anything to be back there vight now,"

"I would give anything to be back at my home as well," Wally said.

He looked around him again and saw his friends talking with the Germans. Moe was talking with a tall heavily built German who did have blonde hair but it was now dirty and looked like it was changing colour into a sort of mud brown-like colour. Hans and another two British soldiers were trading cigarettes with another German who had a finger missing on his left hand (the German explaining that he had lost it when a piece of shrapnel hit his hand and tore it off). Will was smoking and laughing with another group of British and Germans not far from them.

Wally smiled at seeing his friends and Germans talking and acting as if they were best friends. If only this war was not happening, they could all have been friends and talked and laughed instead of saying in a trench everyday trying to kill each other. It was not hard to tell that these Germans, though they were laughing and having a good time out here, would rather be back in their normal lives than stuck out here in this God forsaken wasteland, praying every morning that they would live to see the sunset. They were just like the British soldiers. The British government had said in the newspapers that the Germans wanted this war, but now seeing all of this proved that to be a lie. They did not want this war and they would give anything for it to end, right now if they could.

After a few moments, Wally placed a hand on Franz's' shoulder.

"Well Franz," he said. "_Frohe Weihnachten_," (Merry Christmas)

Franz laughed and almost dropped his cigarette.

"I told you those German lessons would come in handy vone day," he said. He took another puff and blew the smoke into the night air. "_Und eing Gluckliches Neues Jahr_," (And a Happy New Year) he added, making him and Wally laugh again.

After about an hour, the two sides said farewell to one another and went back to their trenches. Wally received a cold look from Adam when he got back in the dugout but he just ignored him. As he took off his mud covered boots and laid down on his bed, feelings of happiness overwhelmed him. He was happy to see his old friend again, and he was glad that these two sides opposed to fight and kill each other had thrown down their weapons and allowed the war to be forgotten for tonight so they could come together and be friends.

_Perhaps this Christmas won't be as bad as I thought,_ Wally thought hopefully as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes: I know the Christmas Truce happened up at Ypres in 1914, but I wanted to add something special to what happens to Wally at the Somme in the first year of the war. **

**Also, for anyone who does not know what the Germans are singing, it was 'Silent Night'**


	15. Ending the Truce

**The next day**

"Toss it over here!"

Strewn out across the war torn landscape of No Man's Land were several groups of British and German troops who were playing a game of rounders. The 'bases' were rifle butts driven deep into the muddy ground with the 'home base' a pile of the remains of small wooden planks which had been blown apart a few days ago by a barrage.

Right now, it was the Germans who were batting. Both teams had about twelve members. So far, the Germans had about ten points against the British's nine with about three out. A large number of British and German soldiers had gathered to watch and were cheering their teams on.

One of the Germans, a tall heavily built soldier who had been a blacksmith before the war, swung the thick wooden bat, that was meant to be used a club, at the ball as William threw it towards him. The ball was hit and flew through the air towards second base where Moe was. He ran out across No Man's Land and dived forward, almost landing into a group of spectators who moved just in time to avoid being knocked over. He caught the ball, but ended up landing face first into the mud but still held it up in triumph.

"I-(spit) I got it-(spit)," he shouted.

"Quick, throw it back!" Hans, who was on third base, shouted as the German passed Stanley, a small Scottish soldier from Edinburgh, who was on first base.

Moe threw the ball with all his might towards Hans, who dived backwards and caught it, landing with a splat in the mud. He quickly got up and slammed his hand with the ball onto the rifle, catching the German out as he was just a foot from the 'base'. He skidded to a halt and swore loudly, though it was blocked out as the British spectators cheered and clapped. The German walked over to his other three comrades who were standing near the 'pitch' watching the game.

"Right next!" William shouted to the next German, a small, rail thin German soldier who looked no older then seventeen, who stepped forward and picked up the bat that lay on the mud covered ground.

Wally, who was playing in a fielding position between second and third 'bases', watched as William threw the ball at the German boy, who swung the bat, hitting the ball and causing it to fly through the air towards him.

"Wally, quick, catch it!" Moe shouted to him.

Wally ran backwards and held up his hands. He had to jump backwards to catch the ball and landed on his back, splattering mud on his uniform.

"Wally! Quick!" William shouted.

Wally shot up from the ground and took one quick look at the pitch, seeing that the young German was past third base and was heading towards Michael, a tall Australian with an athletic body. He threw the ball towards him. Michael jumped up and caught it and slammed it into fourth base, but a moment too slow as the young German reached fourth base just a second before Michael hit it with the ball.

"Damnit!" Michael shouted as he threw the ball back over towards William, who caught it.

The Germans on the batting team and in the crowd of spectators cheered and clapped knowing they were about to get another point in just a few moments. Another German soldier ran forward and picked up the bat, ready to carry on the game.

Watching the game of rounders was a group of British and German officers standing about seventy feet away. Their eyes were filled with disappointment and anger that their men were playing a game with the enemy. It was outrageous! This had never happened before. They were meant to fight each other, not be bloody friends.

However, they did, nor could do, nothing. Their men would not listen to them and they could not simply court martial an entire force or there would be uproar all across the frontline and back in their home countries. They would just have to go along with it. But they could bring an end to it. Not today as this Christmas Day rounder game was keeping the men of both sides in high spirits, but tomorrow. Tomorrow they would bring this damn Christmas Truce to an end.

"So it is settled then," one of the British officers, a medium height middle aged man with thin grey hair, said to the German officers, who nodded. "We end this Truce tomorrow morning,"

"At exactly 08:30am," one of the German officers, who was also medium height and quite fat and had a thick black moustache, replied.

"Yes," Adam said as he looked back at the game of rounders just in time to see Wally throw the ball back at Moe, who slammed it into the rifle but failed to get the German running up to it out.

He was still furious with Wally for the humiliation he had delivered him last night. He was just god damn lucky that other soldiers were following him in this Christmas Truce, otherwise he would have been shot, and by him personally.

The two groups of officers departed and headed back towards their trenches. Behind them, the cheers and shouts of the game continued on into the day air.


	16. Back to war

**The next day**

**Boxing Day, 1914**

The men along the Western Front had woken to another dull and grey morning. Still, however, the guns were silent across areas of the Western Front. For the soldiers in those areas, it would seem that the war was over, at least for the time being.

In a British trench north of the Somme, Wally was sitting on the mud seat with his back against the wooden and mud wall behind him. Hans and Moe were next to him. A few other soldiers further up and down the trench were lined up along the mud wall. They all had frustrated looks on their faces.

The reason; earlier yesterday evening they had heard the Christmas Truce was coming to an end this morning. They were furious that their officers had called an end to this friendly meeting between the two armies, though they were in war and in war one side had to be defeated. Still, though, the troops here were furious.

A few officers walked down the trench, some shouting at the men and ordering them to begin firing back on the Germans. The Truce had apparently ended half an hour ago and now the two sides were to be pitted against each other once again. Some of the men complied, mainly because of the threats of being court-martialled and shot from the officers, but others still refused.

"Right, c'mon, start firing!" a voice barked at Wally, Moe and Hans.

Adam. He was coming up the trench, barking orders at the other soldiers to resume firing on the Germans. However, his three men did nothing.

"I thought I told you three to START SHOOTING!" he shouted at them, adding a furious tone on the last two words.

"Why don't you piss off," Moe replied. "We're not fighting for you anymore!"

Adam stared at them with wide, furious eyes. Did they just refuse him? The anger inside him was beginning to boil over!

"I'm not going to tell you again!" he hissed, trying to keep calm but it was hard doing so. "Start firing on the Germans now! That's an order!"

Still they did nothing. Wally just glared at him and Adam looked at him. He stepped past Hans and Moe towards him.

"Well, are you going soft?" he asked Wally.

"No, I'm not!" Wally replied, not taking his eyes of Adam. "I'm not fighting in this hopeless war anymore,"

Adam was starting to get very angry. His hand clenched into a fist and began to shake. He looked like he was going to punch Wally. He even could if he wanted to. He was an officer. Wally was just a soldier. If he fought back then he could have him court-martialled and shot.

Wait! Maybe there was something else he could use to get him to fight. Something Wally, and probably the same for Moe and Hans, had not counted on.

"Alright, then," he said after a few moments silence. "But wait until your family and friends ear of this."

Wally's glare quickly faded from his face. Moe and Hans looked at Adam.

"And I'm talking to all three of you," he continued, looking at all three before falling his gaze back onto Wally, a small smile creeping upon his face. "Oh yes. When your families hear of this, you'll be shunned completely. They'll see you as cowards."

A look of anxiety began to etch across Wally's face. Moe and Hans looked at each other, no doubt worried as well.

"And the worst of this is; you'll have let your King and country down. You'll be seen as a disgrace!" Adam concluded.

His words ate away at Wally, Moe and Hans like termites eating wood. If their families were to hear of this…they would never speak to them again or even regard them as family. Their country would shun them completely; as would everyone else they were trying to protect in France and Belgium and, well everywhere.

"So what's it to be?" Adam asked, leaning forward slightly so his face was just a few inches from Wally's. "Will you fight, or will forever be a coward?"

Wally sat there for a moment, his mind spinning at what his answer was to be. What was it to be? Was he resume fighting the Germans, or refuse and forever be seen as a coward? If his family found out, his dad, his brother, his neighbour, the entire village from where he lived would see him as a disgrace to the country. Moe and Hans were thinking the same thing as well. Their families would shun them completely and they would be outcasts from society. They would all be isolated and ridiculed behind their backs for the rest of their lives.

"Well?" Adam barked, waiting for an answer.

Moe sighed and picked up his rifle and turned so he was now facing No Man's Land. He knelt down on the mud seat and rested his rifle on the parapet, aiming out of the muddy, war torn wasteland. A moment passed before Hans did the same. Wally looked at them and then back at Adam, who was now looking at him coldly, waiting for an answer. Finally, after another moment, he too gave in and turned and aimed his rifle out into No Man's Land. Adam smiled in triumph and walked further up the trench, feeling confident that he could easily force these three back into the war any time.

**Meanwhile at the German trenches. **

Across No man's Land, the same thing was going on in the German trenches. There were men lined up with their backs to No man's Land. Franz Adler was standing almost directly in line with Wally from his trench between two other Germans, one of them the rail thin young seventeen year old and another German who had been ill yesterday and unable to take part in the game of rounders. They too were furious that the Truce had come to an end. They, like the British, refused to continue the war, seeing it as hopeless and worthless.

A German, the tall officer who had taken part in the meeting between the British and German officers yesterday, walked down the trench. When he saw them standing there rather then their rifles aimed out across No Man's Land, he was furious.

"Vhat the Hell do you think you are doing?" he growled at them.

"Ve are on strike!" the German to Franz's' right replied. "Ve do not vant to fight anymore,"

The officer looked furious. His face began to turn red with anger, making him look like a giant beetroot.

"I order you to start firing on the British!" he ordered. When none of the men obeyed, he yelled out "NOW!" Still they did not obey him.

"Vhat has gotten into you fools?" he asked them furiously, stepping over to them so he was in front of Franz. "They are the enemy,"

"No they are not," Franz replied. "I have a friend over in the British trenches and I do not see him as an enemy,"

The officer's face began to turn a darker shade of red. He looked like a volcano that was going to explode at any moment.

"THEY ARE NO LONGER YOUR FRIENDS!" he roared at Franz. "NOW START FIRING ON THEM NOW!"

Franz did not move.

"You listen to me, you _schweine_!" he hissed at Franz. "If you won't shoot…" the officer reached into his back pocket and took out a small pistol, a P08 Luger, and aimed it at Franz. _"Dann werde ich!" then I will._

Franz stared down the barrel of the pistol, his eyes concentrated on it as if he could see the very bullet itself. All the officer had to do was fire and he would be dead. So what was he to do? Was he to refuse and be shot, or obey and fight?

He got his answer when the young soldier next to him turned and aimed his weapon out into No Man's Land. The other soldier next to Franz did the same. The officer continued to stare at him, his cold and angry look drilling into him. Finally, Franz, with a heavy sigh, turned and aimed his weapon out into No Man's Land.

The German officer turned and walked on past the three Germans, disappearing in a bend of the trench. Franz looked after him and saw a small gap, in the middle of the next section of the trench, where there was a small mound that they had not been able to remove when digging the trenches. The officer was walking straight towards it.

**At the British trenches**

By now, all of the men in the British front line trench were back into the war, their weapons aimed out at No Man's Land. A few occasional shots filled the air as several men fired on a target.

Wally, who had his rifle aimed out across No Man's Land, scanned the landscape but kept his finger off the trigger. He knew that he could not take another person's life, no matter what. Trouble was Adam knew as well and unless he changed, he would be shot for being a coward.

Then, a small head appeared on the other side of No Man's Land. By the looks of it, it was an officer. He had just entered this small gap in the German trench and was half crouched, but he was still too exposed to the British. Wally thought about firing on him, but the thought of him taking another person's life stopped him.

"I got him!" Moe, who had moved so now he was on the other side of Wally next to him, whispered as he aimed his rifle at the moving target.

A shot rang out across No Man's Land and Wally saw the head drop from sight about half-way across the gap in the German line. He sighed.

The Christmas Truce was over. The war was back on.

**Author Note**

**I'd** **like to thank and dedicate the three Christmas Truce to Frank Sumpter, (1897-1999) a participant of the Christmas Truce in Ypres in 1914. **


	17. A tragic mission

**One week later**

**Date: January 2****nd****, 1915**

A new day of combat had dawned for the men on the western front. As always in the winter, it was dull and grey with barely any sunlight managing to break through the clouds that hung in the sky like impenetrable walls.

For the men, however, they really could not care less about the weather. The only thing they were more occupied with now was trying to survive in this dangerous, war torn land. Already this morning in the British trench northwest of Thiepval near the Somme, the nicknamed 'Morning meat grinder' had killed about seventy soldiers, both British and German, and by the end of today, many more would be lying dead out in No Man's Land.

For Wally, it was another hard day for him. Ever since he had been forced back into the war, he had seen many men on both sides be killed right in front of him. It was horrible to witness, let alone think about. He really did not want to be part of this anymore, but every time he thought of leaving he realised that leaving the frontline would mean two things that Adam had managed to get him to believe were worse than fighting.

The first was that if he left the frontline, he would be shot for deserting, which would mean that he had let his country down. The second, and this was, to Wally, a lot worse, was that he would have brought shame onto his family and himself. Those two things, as stupid and pathetic as they sounded, had caused him to remain here. Usually, those kinds of things never affected him but this time it was different. He did not want to bring shame onto himself, or his family, no matter how much he hated being here.

Wally was kneeling on the mud seat, looking out across No Man's Land. His gaze was quickly met with the everyday sight of the thick clay-like mud, the dead tree, which was even more destroyed now after being hit several times by shell bombardments, and the dead bodies of those who had fallen in recent attacks. Wally felt sick every time he saw them, knowing that these young men had been killed in a war that was locked in a stalemate that looked like it had virtually no chance of ending. But at the same time, he did feel quite glad. At least for these men, the war was now over and their suffering of shellshock and seeing their friends and comrades being killed was at an end.

"Ya see anything, Wally?" a Scottish voice asked him.

Wally looked to his left up the trench to see William walking up to him. He turned and sat on the mud seat.

"Not much," he replied. "Just a few helmet tops and that's about it,"

William quickly stood up on his tip toes and looked out across No Man's Land for a second before moving back onto his feet. A heavy silence hung between the two for a few seconds before William broke the ice.

"You get any mail this mornin'?" he asked Wally, who shook his head.

"What about you?"

"Yeah, one from me' mother." He reached into his chest pocket and produced a small piece of paper folded in half. He unfolded it and Wally could just about see the handwriting on the other side through the light. "Says she's telling me how life is without me in the house and that me' sister's signed up to work in the munitions back in Blighty," he sat down next to Wally and gazed longingly at the letter for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. "Wish I was back at home right now,"

"So do I," Wally replied.

The thoughts of home ran through his mind again. Him and Hal working on the farm, him seeing his mother and father again and going back to his ordinary life. The thought of Franz came into his mind as well, another reason why he hated being here. He had a very close and personal friend here as well, only he was on the other side of No Man's Land in the 'enemy' trenches, or at least what their officers had called them and expected their men to do the same, but Wally knew they were not the enemy. He knew that the Germans had also not wanted this war, nobody did. It had been forced onto them by events on the other side of Europe and by their country's leaders. They could have easily settled all of this around a table instead of going to war with each other. Was that so much to ask for?

"Look out," William whispered, warning Wally as he nodded down the trench. "Here comes Auto,"

Wally looked down the trench to see Adam (Auto) walking up the trench dressed in his officer's uniform. He and William stood up and watched him approach. Behind him were three other soldiers, all of who were young looking, around about Wally's age even. Adam, who had been muttering something to the soldiers over his shoulder, looked ahead of him and saw the two.

"Ah, Wallace," he said.

Wally groaned. Oh no, this did not sound good.

Adam stopped in front of him. The three soldiers behind him came to a halt as well.

"You're just the man I need, Wallace," he said, resting a hand on his shoulder as if he were acting like Wally was good use to him. "You, Thomas, Daniel and Benjamin here are to be used on a special mission. Your to scout out positions for our artillery spotters,"

"Why? I thought we knew the German positions anyway," Wally replied.

"Well, word is the Huns are building new ones for their machine guns and a few for close range artillery. Command has ordered a team to investigate and I've put one together, with you being the finishing touch, to be sent out and map them for us."

_Oh great!_ Wally thought anxiously. _This isn't good at all. _

It was obviously not good at all. Wally could not help thinking that Adam had only chosen him so it would, as Adam had put it to him several times, toughen him up a bit. There was probably a small chance he wanted him to get injured, or even killed in this mission but Adam was going to need every man he could have in his squad so no matter how much he loathed Wally, he was going to need him.

"You'll be sent up in a few moments," he told Wally. "Get your rifle ready."

He walked past him down the trench. The other three sat down on the mud seat and began checking their gear to make sure they had everything. Wally heaved another sigh and walked into the dugout. His rifle lay on the floor under his bed. He walked over and picked it up and walked back outside to see the other three standing ready and waiting. He joined them, seeing the confident looks on their faces, but he could easily see past them to looks of worry, fear and sadness. It was as if they knew they were not going to come back, that they were going to be the ones that fell in this mission that would probably end up doing very little for the British army.

"Well," Daniel, a medium heighted young man with blonde hair, blue eyes and an almost rail thin body, said, breaking the silence between the three. He chuckled a bit. "This is it, lads," A pause. "Serving our King and country,"

Thomas, a brown haired, brown eyes and normal bodied young man, nodded in reply, smiling a little.

"It…it just seems…unreal," he said. He let out a little laugh. "T-this could be…our last day at the front,"

"We'll be fine," Benjamin, a tall soldier with brown hair and eyes, told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It can't be too difficult," he added, though there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice. He paused for a moment before patting Thomas' shoulder. "We'll be fine," he said again, moving his hand back down to his side. "We'll be fine," he muttered again under his breath.

"We can only pray that we all make it through," Wally said.

Thomas turned to reply when…

WHOOSH! _BOOM!_

An explosion erupted from No Man's Land. Daniel ran forward and looked up over the parapet to see a cloud of smoke hanging over the German trenches.

A mortar shell had been fired from one of the mortar pits far back in the rear trenches to provide a kind of covering for the men. WHOOSH! _BOOM! _There goes another one.

"Alright, lads, over you go," an officer a few metres up the trench from them shouted.

The four ran forward and pulled themselves over the parapet into No Man's Land. They immediately dived to the ground, Benjamin getting mud on his face, and crawled forward through the opening in their barbed wire into the war torn landscape in front of them. They quickly spread themselves out from each other, keeping as low as possible and moving as fast as they could to get to the nearest shell hole before the Germans saw them.

After a few hectic moments, Wally grabbed hold of the edges of a deep shell hole and pulled himself in. He landed with a thud on his side but he was okay. He rested against the side of the shell hole and breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it. He was safe, for now at least.

Suddenly, another loud thud erupted behind him. He turned his head to see Thomas land in the same shell hole as him. He gasped with shock as he ran over to Wally and threw himself against the side of the crater.

"The bastards!" he cried. "They got Benjamin! It was a sniper! Oh God, I only just got away!"

"Where's Daniel?" Wally asked him.

"I-I!" Thomas was having trouble trying to pull himself together. "I don't know! I didn't have time to see if he got hit, or into a shell hole! I don't know!"

"Okay, okay," Wally replied, trying to calm Thomas down. "Wait here," he said and, keeping his head low, he lifted his head up above the tip of the crater and quickly peeked around, searching the land for their missing comrade.

Wait! He saw something about twenty feet away! He looked again. It was…yes! It was Daniel. He was doing the same thing as Wally, looking up to see if he could find anyone else from the group. He waved his arm at Wally.

Suddenly, Daniel let out a scream of pain as he fell backwards into the crater he was hiding in, disappearing from sight. Just as he fell out of sight, Wally saw a shower of blood fall over the top of his head. That could only mean one of the Germans had seen him and fired on him. Well, at least it was his arm and not his head.

"Well we can't just leave him out there!" Wally told him.

Thomas went to reply but stopped for a second before sighing and nodding.

"Problem is though; how do we get to 'im?" he asked Wally. "If we so much lift our bloody fingers over the edge of this crater, we can kiss 'em goodbye,"

Wally did not reply. He was right. It was suicide and they would most certainly become a target of any German soldier that happened to be looking out into No Man's Land, but a fellow soldier was lying out there injured. They could not just leave him there like some forgotten household item no longer worthy to the occupants! They had to save him! They had to!

Wally breathed in and turned to Thomas.

"Get ready," he said. "On the count of three, we'll run,"

Thomas, though feeling that they would rather be better off staying in this crater, nodded and moved himself so he was next to Wally. He took a deep breath and waited for Wally to give the signal.

"One…two…THREE!"

The two ran out from the crater across No Man's Land as fast as they could. It was when they were about fifteen feet across No Man's Land that a German soldier looked up over the parapet and saw them. He shouted to his comrades and aimed his weapon at the two moving British soldiers, but before he could fire on them they had dived into another shell hole and out of sight.

Wally pulled himself over to Daniel, who was clutching his wrist tightly with his other blood covered hand. Already, a few trails of blood were seeping down his arm into his uniform. He had his teeth gritted hardly as if he were trying to break them, making it obvious he was desperately trying not to yell out because of the pain.

"How bad is it?" Wally asked him.

"How the bloody hell should I know!" Daniel replied, hissing slightly because of the pain.

Wally grabbed his arm and pulled it towards him and, after having to pull Daniel's fingers off his wrist one-by-one, looked at the wound. It was a small hole on the back of his wrist. It must have hit a main artery or something because blood continued to pour out of it.

Thomas, meanwhile, was keeping an eye out in case any of the Germans got bold and tried to rush out and attack them. He looked over his shoulder at the two and asked; "How bad is he?"

"Quite," Wally replied. "We need to back to the trench," he added, raising himself onto his knees to see how far they were from their own lines. They were quite far. Damn! They only just got into this shell hole without being killed. Now they had to get themselves back to their frontline whilst carrying Daniel. It was probably only about a twenty second run but it would take almost no time at all for one of the Germans to fire on them.

Wally crouched low again and turned to Thomas.

"We'll have to crawl back. We can't run or we'll get shot," he said to him.

"I just want to get back to the trench quickly," he replied.

"We will," Wally reassured him, though he too was uncertain whether they would get back alive.

Wally grabbed Daniel's uninjured hand and pulled him up to the side of the crater next to him. Thomas moved up next to Daniel.

"I'll go first," he said, and with that he pulled himself over the crater's side and crawled back into No Man's Land.

Wally went out next and helped Daniel out of the crater. He was moving slower than Wally and Thomas because every time he tried to move his injured hand it felt as if someone was thrusting a dagger through his skin. The blood had covered most of his hand as well and he was trying not to get it covered in mud.

They were about half-way back to their trenches, keeping as low as possible so they would not present themselves as a target for any German snipers. Thomas was about ten feet ahead of Wally and Daniel. He was almost there. He could make it!

When Thomas was about ten feet from the hole in the barbed wire, he took his chance and stood up and ran towards it.

It was a very big mistake.

When Thomas had stood up, a German sniper had just finished reloading another round into his weapon and had taken aim, searching for the men. With Thomas standing up, he had not only revealed himself to the Germans but also where Wally and Daniel were most likely to be. Now the German sniper knew where to look, and he had a first target. He looked down the scope of his rifle, raising it slightly so it was now pointed directly at the back of Thomas' head, and fired.

Thomas ran through the hole in the barbed wire William was standing at the ready to grab him and pull him into the trench when he was within reach.

Suddenly, Thomas slipped and fell into the trench, landing with a gasp. William, though, managed to grab him and prevent him from hurting himself.

"Are you alright?" he asked Thomas, who was lying on his side on the trench floor facing away from him.

He received no reply. William grabbed Thomas' shoulders and pulled him up onto his lap.

It was then he saw the blood running down his trousers. That could only mean… William lifted up Thomas' head. He grimaced and him down on the mud seat.

"Stretcher bearers!" William called out before looking back at Thomas' body and seeing the now empty and colourless eyes staring up at the sky.

There was the sound of moving bodies, followed by a gunshot. A voice William recognized as Wally's gasped: "That was close!" and a second later, Daniel's head appeared at the parapet. William rushed over and pulled him into the trench. Wally's head appeared at the parapet and he pulled himself forward.

BOOM!

Wally screamed and fell forward into the trench, landing with a crash.

"Wally! Are you alright!" William shouted.

He received a few gasps of pain as Wally grabbed his left arm, where there was a small tear in his uniform. A small drop of blood trickled down the side of his uniform.

"Stretcher bearers!" William shouted out again.

Two men carrying a stretcher appeared out from the section of trench that led to the rear trenches. They placed the stretcher on the mud seat, moved Thomas' dead body onto the stretcher, picked it up and disappeared back into the long section of the trench.

"Where does it hurt on your arm?" William asked Wally as he lifted his friend onto the mud seat. Behind him, another two medical personal appeared out of a small square shaped hole in the long section of the trench's side and picked up Daniel and carried him into it.

"H-here," Wally replied, moving his hand to reveal a small but sharp looking piece of metal lodged in Wally's arm. Shrapnel.

William took it between his fingers and tried to pull, but Wally cried out and grabbed his friend's hand and squeezed hard.

"Stop!" he cried. William did so.

The two stretcher bearers reappeared a few moments later and carried away Wally. William watched them go.

He was on a trip to the hospital. Hopefully, he would be back soon.


	18. Meeting a new friend

**Thirty minutes later**

The hospital for the British forces in this area of the Somme was in an abandoned manor house about five miles behind the frontline. The house was about fifty feet tall and seventy feet in length. It had many various rooms and large bronze square doors. Scattered in the fields in front of and around the house were many tents or smaller buildings that had been the houses of people who worked at the house or in the nearby gardens behind the house. In the months since the trench warfare began, they had all been turned into medical hospitals for the injured soldiers.

Right now, ambulances were arriving or leaving the hospital dropping off wounded. Nurses emerged or entered tents with medical officers. Many of them had bloodied aprons from having to deal with amputations and wounds inflicted on the soldiers from the fighting. Several doctors were also taking the bodies of those that had died at the hospital and placing them in a small pile on the ground next to the side of the building.

In one small room in the manor house, Wally sat on a bed in a small square room that was almost completely bare. Other than the bed he was sitting on, which he was surprised to see actually had a mattress rather than thin wire to act as one, there was a window on the wall behind him, giving him a clear view of the tents outside, and a small table that was empty, for the moment. He was clutching the rail end of his bed hard as if trying to transfer the flaring pain going up and down his arm to the bed itself. It was still hurting and he just wanted to grab the piece of shrapnel and tear it out himself, but he had been told that would only make it worse and he had been sent here and told to wait for a doctor or nurse to see him.

He had been waiting for five minutes, which even though sounded short, were _painfully_ long. He was lucky that blood had stopped coming out of the wound, for the moment, but it was really starting to hurt him to tears.

Just then, the door opened and when Wally looked up, he could not believe his eyes.

Standing there was a young woman with a beautiful face that comprised of a small nose, soft cheeks, blue eyes that looked like they could have bested stars and beautiful pink lips that looked as though they were those of a goddess. She had hair that looked completely white, silver even, that stretched down to just past her shoulders. She had a perfect body too, thin with eye drawing curves over her arms and legs and especially her chest where she had perfectly round, and perfect sized, breasts. Just looking at her stole Wally's breath, only to snap him out of his trance by another sharp pain from his arm.

"Are you Wallace Burtt?" she asked him. She was wearing a nurse's uniform with a slightly bloodied apron tied around her waist.

_Her voice is beautiful _Wally thought lovingly through a quick moment's end to the pain before it came back again. It was mainly American but a slight French accent was quite easy to make out. Nevertheless, though, it was beautiful.

"Um…y-yes," Wally replied, clutching his arm tightly with his other hand.

The nurse walked over to the bed and sat down next to him.

"Let me have a look at your arm," she said nicely.

Wally, slowly, moved his hand from his arm. The nurse looked at the piece of shrapnel stuck there. She touched it with her fingers, making Wally gasp in pain.

"Sorry," she said, taking her fingers off the piece of metal. "It's lodged in your arm pretty tight, but I might be able to push it out."

"H-how long will it take?" Wally asked, gritting his teeth in pain as he restrained himself from grabbing his arm again.

"Only a few minutes," She held out one of her hands to him. "You can hold my hand, if you want. Just, don't squeeze it too hard,"

For a moment, Wally stared at her hand, ignoring the pain as if it were no longer there. Her hand…it looked really soft as if it were the best skin he had ever seen. Then, gingerly, he took it. Her hand felt so soft in his. The warmth from her hand radiated to him. It was like being in his own dream world.

Then, the pain from his arm brought him back into reality as she began to pull at the piece of shrapnel again. Wally gritted his teeth and winced. He tightened his grip slightly on her hand and at that point, the pain just seemed to disappear from him. At first, he thought she had taken the piece of shrapnel out of his arm but she was still trying to push it out. It seemed that the softness of her hand was drawing all of the pain from his arm.

"Okay, almost," the nurse said after a few moments.

"Hey, Wally," a voice said from the doorway.

Wally and the nurse looked over at the room's entrance to see a familiar face standing there.

"Daniel!" Wally said, wincing again at the pain. "How's your hand,"

"Fine," he replied. He held up his hand to reveal it wrapped in a bandage that was half coloured red. "Only just saved it from being amputated,"

"Oh that's good,"

Daniel's gaze then lowered to Wally's hand in the nurse's and he chuckled slightly.

"You finally found yourself a girl then?" he asked Wally.

"What?" Then, he realised where his hand was. "Oh, no! She's just removing a bit of shrapnel from my ar-AAAAH!"

He was cut off when a sudden sharp pain flared out across his body as if he had been set on fire. He looked over at the nurse who held a small piece of metal in her other, open hand. A small drop of blood covered the top of it.

"There we go," she said.

Wally let out a little laugh.

"Oooow!" he whispered, obviously in pain. At least it was begining to ebb away quite quickly now. It did hurt when she removed it, but he was no longer going to have to put up with the stabbing pain anymore.

He felt the nurse release his hand and she placed it on the wound on his arm.

"It seems to have torn an artery," she said. "We'll patch it up for you,"

"T-thank you," Wally replied.

She gave him a friendly smile and stood up and walked out of the room. Daniel gave a small laugh as he watched her walk down the corridor and looked back at Wally.

"She's pretty," he said, which Wally nodded in agreement.

Hopefully, he would see her again.


	19. About our lives

**Later that night**

Even though the sky had been ruled by grey clouds today, tonight it had turned out very nice. It was clear, giving anyone a perfect view of the thousands coming out. It looked so peaceful, especially in this war torn area of the world.

Outside the manor house, Wally walked out of the building and gazed up at the peaceful night sky. He sighed lovingly, wishing that down here it could be peaceful as well instead of it all being ruined by this war.

After that nurse had removed the piece of shrapnel from his arm earlier today, he had his wound patched up and a bandage wrapped around it. It was much better now and he was told, to his dismay, that he would be fit for frontline service again by tomorrow.

As Wally took in the night sky, he noticed a white colour on the ground out of the far corner of his eyes. He looked over towards the woods to the left of the manor house and saw a woman sitting on a small bench. Hey, that was the nurse that had treated him earlier on. She was on her own and looking up at the sky, just like him. Maybe he should…

_Go over there _his mind said to him. _Go and speak to her_.

He wanted to but, well he was…a bit nervous. He had never spoken to a girl, besides his mother before, plus he was nervous that he would make himself look like a fool in front of her.

No. He was not going to let nervousness overtake him. He was going to go over there and speak to her.

He took a deep breath, as if inhaling courage itself, and walked over to the bench. She must have heard him approach because she turned and smiled when she saw him.

"Oh, hi," she said welcomingly.

"Hello," Wally replied.

He stopped next to the bench.

"Um…I was j-just wondering i-if I-I could-,"

"Sit next to me," Eve finished his sentence.

"Y-yes,"

"Sure, go ahead,"

She moved up the bench, giving him a bit of room, and he sat next to her.

"Thanks," He sat down next to her and the two gazed up at the stars, remaining silent.

"So what's your story?" she asked him after a few moments.

"My story?" Wally repeated, looking at her confused.

"You coming out here. What made you want to come out here and fight?"

"Well…" Wally began but quickly trailed off. He was finding it quite hard trying to put it together. "Me and my brother… We were kind of made to join up. B-but we wanted to join up as well. We wanted to come over here and fight the Germans."

"I bet you regret it now," she replied, to which Wally nodded.

"I've only been here two months, or just under that," he said to her in a low voice, looking down at the ground. "But in the first week, I wanted to go home. And every night, I worry about my brother, Hal,"

"Isn't he down here with you?"

"No, he was sent up to Ypres,"

The nurse placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I feel so sorry for you," she said softly. "You being separated from your brother. I don't really know what that's like,"

"It's horrible, and that's… Not even the worst way to describe it," Wally replied.

She sighed.

"I'm sure he'll be fine,"

"I hope so too," he smiled a little and looked up at the nurse. "I also want to thank you...uh," he chuckled a little. "I don't know your name."

"Evelyn Aimee Knight," she told him.

"That's pretty," Wally said. "Anyway, thanks for treating me earlier on," he added.

"It's okay,"

The silence returned between the two for a few moments. Eve moved her hand off his shoulder back down onto her lap and looked back up at the stars.

"So…um, and sorry if I'm…being a bit nosey or rude, I…take it you're not from Britain," he said to her.

"No, I'm actually part French and part American," she replied. "If you weren't able to tell by my accent," she added. "My mother was American and my father was French. They met and got married and I was born in…I think it was June 1897,"

"Oh, about the same time as me," Wally replied. "So where do live now?" he asked her.

At this question, Eve went quiet. Wally could easily tell he had upset her.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, It's okay," she replied, cutting him off mid-sentence. She took a deep breath. "My home…well, it was a small village called Ruesnes, near the Belgium border. When the Germans invaded Belgium, we thought we were safe. But then, we heard that they had broken through the Liege forts and were advancing across Belgium towards the border. Our leaders knew they wouldn't stop there so we had to leave." she let out a sniff. "I can remember the rush to get out of the village. Many people were crying and there were little kids asking their mothers things like; where are they going? Are we coming home? I-I just…couldn't help but cry because I knew that there was nothing stopping the Germans from advancing, that we wouldn't be coming home for…a long time," she took a deep breath and tried desperately to hold back her tears. "About a month afterwards, the army managed to halt the Germans at the Marne and they were retaking the occupied areas of the country." Her voice began to get more hopeful. "It looked like we would win, that we would be going home. But then..." her voice began to drft into sadness again. "They hit the trenches and…well, this is what it is now,"

Wally placed a hand on Eve's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly to her. "I can't imagine what It's like,"

Eve sniffed again and wiped away a tear from her eye. Wally placed his other arm on her other shoulder and embraced her. She did not resist, she embraced him.

"I'm like this every night," she said, though it was slightly muffled but Wally could understand her. "I always wonder why this happened, what these people over in Serbia hoped to gain. I just…oh,"

She buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed slightly. Wally patted her back gently.

"Sssh! It's okay," he whispered softly to her in a comforting way. "It's okay," he said again.

After a few minutes, she moved away from his shoulder and wiped her face, where her cheeks were slightly red from the tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, you don't need to be," Wally told her. "I mean, I would do the same thing if that happened to me. But look, Eve, you got out and look where you are now. Your helping your country in their time of need. Right now, they need someone like you helping their men and their allies fight the Germans. I know one day you will be able go back home. And, I really hope you do,"

She smiled a little more and embraced him again.

"Thanks for your support," she said.

She let go of him and sat rested her back against the bench, feeling a little more relaxed now.

"So, what about your mother and father?" Wally asked her. "They must have got out,"

Eve nodded.

"They did. My father's in the army down in Verdun, the fortresses near the German border. And my mother's living with my aunt and grandmother not far outside Paris."

"Well, that's another reason to be glad you're here now," Wally told her. "Your family made it out and you know their safe,"

Eve nodded in agreement. She looked back up at the stars and watched the last fragment of day disappear behind the trees. After about a minute, she stood up.

"Well, I best be getting to bed," she said. "It's nice talking to you, Wally," she added, to which he smiled at.

"I'll probably see you tomorrow."

"Okay. I hope we get to talk again in future,"

"Don't worry, I'll get myself injured again just especially for you,"

Eve giggled.

"Very funny," she said. "Right, goodnight,"

"Night,"

Eve walked back towards the manor house. Wally watched her go and heaved a happy smile as he looked back up at the stars. He had made a new friend, and it looked like they would get to know each other a lot more in the future.

After about another ten minutes, he got up and walked back to the manor house to climb in for the night.


	20. Letter and an old adversary

**The next day**

The clear sky last night had not lasted until the morning. Heavy grey clouds hung in the air, making it obvious a rainstorm was on the way. However, even this was not going to end the fighting. Even though it was certain that the heavens were soon to open, the soldiers in the trenches remained at their stations, continuing this damn war as if nothing would, or could, stop it. In a way, they were like living statues. They had been given life, but now they had to through the same purpose of staring across a war torn landscape at their enemies, who were looking back at them and were willing to do whatever it took to smash them to pieces using guns, grenades, artillery, even their bare hands if necessary.

Here, in these trenches, Human bodies and minds were being pushed to the limits and even beyond. This war torn environment was tearing young men to pieces and affecting many more with a horrible mental illness caused by no break in the fighting. Shellshock

This virtually caused soldiers to lose it on the frontline. The constant fighting, shelling and no rest caused soldiers to lose their minds and end up refusing to fight or try and flee, but nothing could be done for them, and the sad thing was they knew it as well. If they tried to leave, they would be caught and shot by the military police for deserting, and in the trenches things were no different. If they were to climb up a ladder and they could not do so because they were scared, they would be shot for being cowards.

This war was…one that no one had ever seen before, and the main thing was; no one knew how long it would last until one side cracked…or won.

A soldier emerged from one of the long sections of the trench. It was Wally. He had just returned to the front a few moments ago after getting back from the hospital. The bandage around his arm had been taken off just before he left and he said a quick goodbye to Daniel, who would need another few weeks for his hand to heal, and Eve before he left.

As he walked towards the dugout, he whistled a musical tone of his own. Just then, Hans emerged from the dugout and smiled when he saw his friend.

"Ah, good your back," he said, shaking Wally's hand. "Thought you'd be away for a while,"

"So did I,"

"Did it hurt when they removed the shrapnel?"

"No, sh-" he blushed a little and thought fast "_They _managed to patch it up,"

Hans smiled a little.

"What were you just about to say just then?"

"They,"

"No, you said something like 'she' didn't you,"

"N-no,"

Wally quickly walked past Hans into the dugout in an attempt to get away from him. He failed as Hans followed him.

"There's a nurse there you like, isn't there?" he said.

"No," Wally answered quickly but Hans was not convinced.

"Nah, c'mon. Who is she?" he asked him as Wally sat down on his bed.

"No one, I don't what you're talking about," he replied.

"Yes you do. So what's her name?"

Wally sighed in defeat. Well, his friend had found out.

"Alright," he said. "Her name's Eve,"

"She pretty?" Hans asked.

"Yes,"

"She fit?"

"Y-what?"

"You gonna go out with her?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Well, ya' never know. You and 'er might make a good couple,"

"I just talked to her. I didn't ask her out or anything,"

"Yet,"

Wally let out a little smirk and shook his head, not taking his eyes of Hans. "You love winding people up, don't you?"

Hans shrugged but kept a smug look on his face.

"I'll take that as a yes," Wally said.

He reached under his bed and pulled out his backpack and searched through it to see if he had received anything whilst he had been absent.

"Oh, that reminds me," Hans piped up. He walked over to the doorway in the top left corner of the dugout and walked through into the next room. Wally heard him mutter: "Where is it?" a few times until he emerged holding a small envelope in his hand. "It's a letter for you," he said, handing it to Wally. "Came just after you were taken away," he added.

Wally opened the envelope to reveal a folded piece of paper. He opened it and his eyes widened when he saw who it was from.

"It's from my brother," he said, shocked.

"Hal?" Hans asked.

Wally nodded and read the letter.

_Dear Wally, _

_I hope your okay. It's been really different in my life now that we're not in this together. I've only just managed to get a few minutes spare to write you this letter so I hope it gets to you quick. _

_It's been really tough up here without you to help me. Every day we get shelled and attack follows afterwards. I've made a few friends, though. A guy called Albert and another guy called Len. They arrived a few days ago and we've got on really well. Had a few laughs as well. Yesterday, Albert leaned against a sandbag wall in our trench and he ended up getting muddy water from a shell hole on his head. Couldnt stop laughing after that._

Wally stopped reading when he saw that the rest of the letter right down to where Hal had told him to stay safe (the end of the letter) had been crossed out with a pen.

"What the Hell!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. He looked at Hans. "Who did this?" he demanded. "Who the Hell crossed out something on my letter?"

"I didn't," Hans replied, raising his hands to prove his innocence. "I swear it wasn't me. And it couldn't have been Moe or William either."

So if it was not them, then it had to be…

"Adam!" Wally whispered. "That…" He wanted to call him a name, but stopped himself but also ended up creasing his letter in his hand. "I cannot believe him!"

"Yes, it must have been him!" Hans said to Wally. "When the letter was delivered, he took it and said he'd leave it for you," He paused for a second. "Though, it could have been that new soldier in our group," he added but Wally did not hear him.

"Well that's enough proof," he replied. He folded the letter again and placed it back in the envelope which he then put in his backpack. "I can't believe he did that! I didn't even get to read-"

He was cut off when footsteps erupted outside. A soldier said something and Adam's voice replied sternly. The soldier's footsteps started again and died away. Adam appeared a second later.

"Hello, Hans," he said. He then saw Wally, who was glaring at him. "Oh," he said in a voice that obviously sounded disappointed. "Your back,"

"I'll…uh, quickly get going," Hans said.

He walked past Adam back into the trench. Adam looked at Wally's hand that held the backpack and saw the envelope poking out of the top.

"I see you got your letter," he said.

"I wasn't the first to read it," Wally replied. "I found that out very quickly." He set his backpack on his bed and walked over to Adam, stopping a few feet from him. "What did you cross out?" he asked calmly.

"Now wait a minute, Wallace," he said but Wally cut him off.

"No, I won't wait a minute," his voice began to get angrier. "What did you cross out? Tell me!" he demanded.

"It wasn't me who crossed it out," Adam told him.

"It must have been you," Wally protested. "Hans told me you took it and said you left it for me,"

"And I did," Adam replied. "Look, I'm telling the truth, it was not me."

"Then if wasn't you, who was it?" Wally asked.

"It was me," a voice said, making them jump.

Another man stepped into the dugout. He was short, slightly smaller than Wally, with short brown hair, green eyes and a heavily built body. Wally could not believe it.

It was Gomer.

"Well, well," he said, crossing his arms as he looked at Wally. "We meet again, Wallace. Though I can't really say I'm happy to see you,"

"I think I can say the same," Wally replied. "So you crossed out my letter,"

"That I did," he said. "You know, It's called censorship. Can't let you know anything that might stop our boys from fighting the Huns," he stepped over to Wally. "I told you that you would never forget what I taught you." He said. "And I hope you've been killing the Germans,"

"No he hasn't," Adam told him before Wally could reply. "He hasn't killed one German since he's arrived,"

Gomer just shook his head.

"It's amazing, isn't it," he said. "How a soldier that is described as being very rare when he's in training and yet he hasn't the guts to kill when he's on the battlefield. Pathetic."

Wally glared at him but said nothing. Gomer just smirked and turned and walked out of the dugout; Adam followed him and the two began to talk, no doubt about Wally.

Wally sat back down on his bed and heaved a frustrated sigh. This was just perfect! Having been led by Adam was bad enough, but now Gomer was here. Could this seriously get any worse?

Wait a minute, Wally still had something on his side. The humiliation he had dealt Gomer back in Britain. He smiled a little. Yes, he had something that was on his side. If he could persuade Gomer to keep his mouth shut, he would keep his shut as well.

Only time would tell would happen between the two.


	21. A faulty grenade

**January 23****rd****, 1915**

When Wally had woken up that morning, he had hoped that the freezing cold weather that had hit them in the night would be gone. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The ground this morning was covered with frost, especially over the wooden boards that made up the trench floor, the mud that made up the walls and in No Man's Land was frozen solid and freezing cold for anyone to touch. The air too was part of this freezing weather that had struck the trenches with a breeze that was, although gentle, cutting through the man like a knife through warm butter. It was as if the coldness hung in the air, refusing to allow hot air into it, and all this was starting to take It's toll on the men in the trenches. Already, two men had to be taken away because their feet, black and rife with trench foot, had frozen to the point where they were almost _completely blue_. It was grim reminder of where the men were and what they had to endure.

What this winter had to throw at the men, who were already in terrible conditions in the trenches, was beginning to take It's toll on the men on the frontline. The Germans, who despite having better trenches, were also suffering, though, again because of their better built trenches, not as badly.

Wally, who was sitting on the mud seat with an overcoat, that looked more like some kind of vest, was rubbing his hands together as hard as he could and breathing into them trying to get them warm. It was cold. He had been shivering in his sleep through the night, and he was not the only one who was feeling the effects of the cold. Hans had wrapped up in an overcoat, that was about as thin as the one Wally was wearing, and even had a scarf wrapped around his neck and yet he was still shivering, Moe had woken up with a cold head and a headache to add to it and Gomer, who was staying in a dugout in the long section of trench that led to the rear trenches, had lit up a candle to warm his hands, which had been blown out twice by the cold breeze. Even Adam with his apparent bags of energy was unable to keep still for even a second and was constantly moving himself to keep warm.

A cough, followed by a shiver, drew Wally's attention to look up the trench. Moe was walking towards him, rubbing his hands against each other to try and create some heat to keep them warm. He was shivering as well, so much that Wally could hear his teeth chattering.

"Y-you al-right?" he asked Wally.

"Y-yes," he replied, also shivering a little. "Oh God, I just hope this cold lifts up soon,"

"Same 'ere,"

Moe sat down next to him and took out a small box and opened it up to reveal a pack of matches.

"You got a candle or a bit of paper?" he asked Wally, who shook his head in reply. He doubted a bit of paper would last to keep them warm for long and his candle was broken on Christmas Eve when he had thrown dirt into Adam's face.

A shot sounded out from somewhere down the trench, followed by a moment of quietness before another shot, though more distant and probably coming from the German trenches, filled the air again. Then, silence fell across No Man's Land once more.

"You guys alright?"

Wally and Moe looked down the trench to follow where the voice had come from. Standing in front of them was a medium heighted and large soldier with a small black moustache just visible on his face. He reached into his breast pocket and took out a small case and opened it to reveal a few cigarettes.

"You two want one?" he asked as he took one.

Moe took one but Wally declined. Moe, with his cigarette held between his teeth, tried to light a match but the flame would not ignite. The soldier chuckled slightly.

"You won't get it doing that," he said to Moe. He took the cigarette from Moe's lips and a small bit of string from his side pocket and tied the cigarette to the top of his rifle. "This is an easier way," he said to Moe.

With Wally and Moe watching with wide eyes, like schoolchildren being shown something amazing, the soldier raised the tip of his rifle above the parapet. Not even a second passed before a shot sounded out and hit the cigarette, lighting it. The soldier lowered his weapon and untied the string and handed the now lit cigarette back to Moe.

"There you go," he said.

He repeated the same thing to his cigarette and he took a puff and blew it out into the air.

"Ah, just the thing ya need to warm your 'eart," he said happily. "Well, see ya' lads," and with that, he walked off past the two down the trench, disappearing behind a bend. Moe and Wally just looked at each other.

"Well, that was weird," Wally said.

"Yep," Moe replied. He grunted as he stood up and took a puff from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "Well, at least I can have a fag. I'll see you later, Wally,"

Wally nodded and watched as is friend walked past him back into the dugout. He sighed and stood up.

_Maybe I'll go and see Eve later tonight _he thought hopefully.

He and Eve had been regularly meeting with each other outside the hospital over the past few weeks. He had last seen her a few nights ago when she was given a break from tending to the wounded. For some reason, he really liked seeing her and especially enjoyed being with her. To him, she was a really good friend. She was nice, pretty and helpful and she felt the same way being with him.

He could not help but think… Well, what if it went further than being just friends. They were meeting up with each other and they really like each other. So what if this did go further into a sort of…relationship-

"WATCH OUT! GRENADE!"

Next thing Wally knew, something hit him on the head and landed on the trench floor next to his foot. He looked down. His breath was stolen from him, he throat went dry and his heart thumped madly like a mad drummer against his chest.

It was a grenade…and it had landed right next to him.

"Wally!" a voice hissed at him from the dugout. It was Moe. "Get! Away! From! It!"

He tried to but the fear of this device that could certainly kill him more or less straight away seemed to hold him like it had some kind of invisible hand that had grabbed It's nearest victim and was planning on taking him with it as it exploded. He was too scared to move, or even breathe.

Five seconds went past. Wally's shut tightly and waited for the explosion to happen and take his life. Ten seconds. Where was the explosion? Twelve seconds, surely that was long enough. Wally slowly opened his eye and looked down at the grenade. It was still there!

_What the…? Why hasn't it detonated? _Wally mentally asked himself as he knelt down.

"Wally, what are you doing? Leave it!" Moe hissed.

Wally ignored him and picked up the grenade, though he did slowly just in case any quick movement would set the thing off. As he stood up with it, taking a deep breath when the grenade wobbled in his hand, he realised that it felt quite light. Usually, grenades would feel a bit heavy but this one was not. Why?

Then, he noticed that the top of the grenade was a little loose. Gently, he took it off and went wide-eyed at what he saw.

Cigarettes, about ten of them! Wally could not believe it. He had just received a load of cigarettes in a faulty grenade…that was from the German trenches. Wow! This must be something they had wanted to send over.

"Bloody Hell!" a voice behind him exclaimed.

William and a few other soldiers walked over to Wally, crowding round him. Moe came out of the dugout and joined them.

"How the Hell did that get over 'ere?" one of the soldiers next to William asked.

"The Huns threw it over," another soldier answered. He looked over in the direction of the German trenches with shock filled eyes. "I never expected that," he said.

William sighed. "Well, we can't let 'em go to waste. So…" he reached out a hand and took one of the cigarettes from the grenade. "Anyone go' a light?" he asked.

"I'll do it," Moe said, taking the cigarette from William.

He was going to try out that method of lighting a cigarette the way that soldier showed him. He took out his bayonet and a bit of string, tied the cigarette to the end of his bayonet and walked over to the mud seat and held his bayonet's end high above the parapet. Another shot rolled out across No Man's Land. Not even a second passed before the cigarette was hit.

"Nice one, Moe!" William said in an annoyed tone.

Moe's way of lighting the cigarette for William had not turned out as he had hoped. Instead of the end of the cigarette being lit, half of it had been shot off. William shook his head and took another cigarette from the grenade, this time keeping it from Moe so as not to repeat his failed trick, and Wally started offering them to the other soldiers.

_Wait a minute _he mentally said to himself as he finished handing out the cigarettes, leaving only two left. _If they sent us some, we may as well send some back._

A smile crept onto his face. The Germans had given them something to enjoy in a device that could have well and truly killed him. He may as well send it back with a few cigarettes in return. Only problem was; he needed to find some cigarettes.

Wait! Moe or Hans would have some! Great! Wally walked past two of the soldiers into the dugout and over to Hans' bed near the doorway in the top left corner. He had a small tin of cigarettes under his pillow, which Wally knew about when he had offered him and Moe one when Adam was out in another part of the trench with Gomer. He walked over to Hans' bed and moved his small pillow, which everyone in the dugout had and they were very uncomfortable, to reveal a small metal case. Wally took it in his hand and opened it to reveal about fifteen cigarettes. Wally took about ten of them and closed the tin and placed it back under Han's pillow. He placed the cigarettes into the grenade and put the top back on and walked out of the dugout.

He was stopped at the dugout entrance by someone.

"What is the meaning of this?"

It was Gomer. Wally just glared at him and pushed past.

"It's none of your business," he said to him.

Gomer gritted his teeth in anger and grabbed Wally by the arm and pulled him over to him.

"You're starting to get on my nerves!" he hissed dangerously. "Now I'm going to ask you again; what is the meaning of this? Why do you have a grenade filled with cigarettes in your hand?"

"Who's got cigarettes in a grenade?" one of the soldiers asked, having overhead the conversation and attracting the attention of the other soldiers who gathered round Wally and Gomer.

"Have they sent over another load?" William asked.

"No they haven't!" Wally replied, pulling his arm out of Gomer's hand. "I'm sending some back,"

The other soldiers looked at each other, but they were not shocked. On the contrary, they actually thought it was good idea. The Germans had sent over some of their cigarettes so the British would send some of theirs back as a thank you gift in return.

Gomer, though, was less than please. In fact, he was furious. He grabbed Wally and pushed him up against the wall of the trench next to the dugout.

"Now you listen to me, you berk!" he said. "I won't tolerate our soldiers being friends with the Boche! Now give me that grenade!" He held out a hand for the grenade, but Wally did not give it to him. "Fine, I'll take it myself!" he said when Wally did not place the grenade in his hand.

He grabbed it and tried pulling it out of Wally's grasp.

Suddenly, Moe and two of the soldiers grabbed Gomer and pulled him away from Wally, throwing him onto the mud seat. Wally thanked them and stood up on the mud seat, though keeping his head low in case any German sniper that was about saw him, and, with all his might, threw the grenade into the air towards the German lines. He then stepped down from the mud seat onto the trench floor, only to be greeted by Gomer's fury filled eyes.

"You've really done it this time, Wallace," he said. "I can't believe you being friends with the Germans!" he looked around at the rest of the group as if to include them in this as well. "I can't believe any of you!" he said. "You think that the Germans are our friends. Well, if you like 'em so much then go bloody join them!"

"Why don't you bugger off!" one of the soldiers said to Gomer. "Go pick on somebody else!"

Gomer rounded on him, looking like he was going to throw a punch at the soldier, but he did not. He just glared at the soldier before he stormed off, pushing past William, into the long section of the trench.

"Well, that was eventful," Wally said.

The other soldier nodded in agreement and went back to their duties, though enjoying the cigarettes the Germans had sent over. He smiled a little as he looked over at the German trenches.

"I hope they enjoy them," he muttered under his breath.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to Smiler Marsh (1897-2005) who said in an interview that a faulty German grenade with cigarettes tied around the sides was thrown into his trench and he said that the next day he sent the faulty grenade back over with some English cigarettes, to which he proudly remarked at the end of the interview "I hope they enjoyed them."**


	22. A walk and a snowball fight

**Later that day**

If the day had been cold, the night was a lot worse. It had dropped well below freezing, pretty much to the point where men on both sides of No Man's Land were sitting on the mud ground between the trenches around roaring fires. Neither side, though, had to worry about any attacks from the other. For now, at least, the British and the Germans had agreed to a mutual ceasefire until the weather grew a bit warmer.

For Wally, it was a bit of a different matter. He had gone to see Eve, who was waiting for him outside the hospital, and they had gone for a walk through the woods. He was still cold but the trees around the two blocked out most of the ice cold wind that seemed to cut through them as they walked down a path that led through the woods.

Another gentle, but icily breeze swept over the two as they walked down the path. Wally shivered a little but he quickly shook it off. Eve on the other hand was fine. She did not have a coat so Wally lent him hers. He did not mind despite Eve's offer to him several times to join her, all of which he politely declined.

"Alright, c'mon," she said, stopping them and lifting up the right end of the coat with her arm. "It's obvious your cold so get under here,"

"Eve, I'm fine, really," he replied.

Eve looked at him as if waiting for him to admit that he was wrong. Finally, after a few minutes, he sighed and said: "Oh, alright," and got under the coat with her. Once he did, he actually felt a lot warmer, but whether that was from the coast or from Eve it was hard to say.

The two walked on, surveying the dark, yet peaceful wood around them. It was amazing to see that this dark wood, as creepy and probably even evil as it looked, it was still a beautiful sight, especially now when there was a war raging across the many fields and other great woods just a few miles away.

And as if to add to the peaceful scenery, the moon was out, almost full and just visible through a gap in the tree tops. A few dark clouds hung in the air, illuminated by the light of the moon, but it was still a beautiful sight.

"Oh," Wally said after a few moments silence between the two. "You won't believe what happened today," he said to Eve.

"What?" she asked intrigued.

"The Germans sent over a grenade that was filled with cigarettes," he replied. "It was weird, but amazing as well,"

"I bet you all enjoyed them,"

"I didn't. I don't smoke. Anyway, the others took some and…well, I kind of sent some back,"

Eve smirked a little.

"What?" Wally asked her.

"Nothing," she replied, laughing a little. "I just…find it, y'know really weird that men from opposite sides in this war are getting along with each other as if they're friends. But I find it good at the same time." she looked up hopefully at the stars as if they would help her with what she was hoping for. "Maybe, just maybe, one day we can all go home."

"I hope so to," Wally replied.

They walked on for a few more minutes before Wally stopped suddenly. He felt something hit his sock in his boot. He lifted it up, balancing himself on one leg as he held his other leg with both of his hands, and saw a small hole on the front of his boot.

"Oh no!" he muttered. "Hang on a moment, Eve," he said to her.

He walked over to a nearby tree and placed a hand against it as he took off his boot and tipped it upside down. A small pebble fell out of the boot onto the ground. Wally then leaned against the tree to put his boot back on as Eve patiently watched. However, both were unaware of a few branches bending to breaking point above Wally.

Suddenly, the sound of several branches snapping filled the air. Wally looked up to be met by a wall of white. A loud thud filled the air as he was thrown to the floor by something white and cold.

"Wally! Are you okay?" he heard Eve shout as she rushed over to him.

"Argh! Y-yep!" he replied as he used his hand to punch a hole through the whiteness around him.

He made a small hole that revealed a few trees for a few seconds before they were blocked out by a pair of legs. He held out his hand through the hole and it was taken by another hand which pulled him out of the whiteness, some of which landed on his neck and made him shiver.

"Thanks, Eve," he said as he stood up.

"It's okay," she replied. The two looked back down at the pile of whiteness. "Snow," Eve said, looking up at the trees. "It snowed a few days ago. Must be more of it around here,"

"Y-y-yeah," Wally replied, shivering.

"Is it that cold?"

"Well, you do have my coat,"

"Yep, and It's kinda warm. Now let's get going unless you want to stay here and catch a cold,"

Eve smirked and walked off down the path. Wally rolled his eyes, letting out a little laugh, and went to follow but stopped and looked back at the pile of snow that lay at the bottom of the tree. A small grin crept upon his lips.

"Hey, Eve!" he called.

"Yes?" she turned to face him, only to be met with a snowball to the face. "Ha!"

Eve staggered backwards a few paces, wiping the snow from her face. She looked up at Wally who had another snowball in his hand.

"Oh no you don't," she replied playfully.

She rushed over to Wally who threw the snowball at her, which she dodged. Wally went to grab another snowball but she threw his coat at him. It landed on his head and he stumbled backwards onto the ground.

"I'll get you Eve," he said as he pulled his coat off his face, only to be hit by two snowballs. He yelled out and wiped the snow off his face and he saw her standing over him with a larger snowball in her hand.

"Give up?" she asked playfully.

Wally stared up at her smiling face for a second before he sighed in defeat and smiled and held up his hand, which Eve took and pulled him up onto his feet before she threw the last snowball at his face.

"Hey!" Wally said as he rubbed the snow off himself. "I thought we called a truce,"

"Yeah, well that was to make you learn your lesson," she replied.

Wally went to reply but Eve's smile stopped him. He sighed and smiled at her in return.

"Okay, you win," he said. "Let's go,"

He wrapped his coat around the two and they walked on down the path. That had been fun those few minutes. Eve said something to Wally and they laughed as they disappeared behind the trees in a bend in the path.


	23. Transferring

**Date: February 2****nd**

Another cold day had dawned for Western front but it was a bit milder than it had been a few weeks ago, though that did not mean there was no cold breeze sweeping across the ground. The men on both sides were still wrapped up in their coats, many of them having slept in them through the night and many even left candles on and put them on any spare boxes if they were in dugouts or on the ground next to them if they were sleeping in holes in the trench sides.

In the British trench, Wally was sitting on the mud seat. His coat was wrapped around him and in his hand was a tin of bully beef and in his other hand was a spoon. He scooped out another spoonful of the beef and put it into his mouth, chewing hard as he surveyed the scene around him. Hans was in the dugout reading a letter from his parents, Moe was further up the trench on sentry duty with William and Adam was about twenty feet down the trench looking out over the parapet across No Man's Land at the German trenches. A soldier was kneeling down on the mud seat next to him, his sniper rifle aimed out across the mud wasteland, looking for a target like a lion searching for a weakling in an antelope herd.

As Wally scooped the last of the bully beef out of the tin and put it in his mouth, a shot sounded out across No Man's Land, followed by a scream further up the trench. Wally shuddered, the tin and spoon in his hand actually shaking, and heard someone shout "Stretcher bearers!" he then saw two men carrying a blood stained stretcher appear out of a long section of trench that led to the rear trenches and disappear behind a small bend of the trench. After about ten seconds, they reappeared again, this time with a young soldier lying on the stretcher and quickly disappeared into the long section of trench again.

Grimacing, Wally put his spoon in the empty tin and stood up and walked back to the dugout to see Hans laugh a little as he read on.

"What?" Wally asked him.

"Oh, It's me' sister," Hans replied. "Just tellin' me how she took her dog out and she accidentally let go of the leash when he saw a cat and chased after it." He chuckled again. "Said she must have run faster than any other time in her life to get him."

Wally laughed a little in reply and walked over to the opening that led into the next room of the dugout. This room was about half the size of the main part of the dugout and a small table that was attached to the wall, which was lined with large wooden boards. A few small boxes were in the top left corner. It was quite dark in this room as well as there was no light bulb in here. This was the spare room for any rubbish or any mail that would be left for soldiers that were not around at the time it was delivered.

Wally walked over to the boxes and dropped the tin in one of them, where there were more empty tins of bully beef or crumped up pieces of paper. As he turned to walk back into the main part of the dugout, he saw a letter on the table. On the front of it was the name _Wally_.

_Another letter! _Wally thought happily as he took it. It was probably from Hal or his parents. This was great! He had not gotten another letter for ag-

Wait a minute. If he had another letter, who was to say Gomer or Adam had not already had a look at it to cross out anything. That thought brought anger to him. He even began clutching his letter hard, but stopped when he realised he was doing so. After a moment, he sighed and turned it over. To his surprise, it was still closed. Maybe they had not had the chance to read it yet. Well, he was going to whilst he still had the chance to.

Wally opened the letter to reveal a folded piece of paper. He opened it and read.

_Dear Wally,_

_How are you doing, son? We're fine. I hope your serving well out there in France, giving the Huns a good kicking. I hope Hal is as well, and I hope you're looking after him-_

After reading that sentence, Wally's smile quickly faded from his face. Oh no. His parents did not know that he and Hal were not serving in the same area. He was going to have to tell them soon, but it would be hard breaking it down to them.

He read on, though he was still feeling a bit uncomfortable for what might come.

_Life has been a lot different without you two here, though. We're finding it hard looking after the horses and the farm without you two. It's even quite lonely here without you two. We miss you, but we know you're doing the right thing serving our King and country. We've been hearing about these great victories we've been scoring against the Germans. Anyway, good luck and stay safe. _

_Love Mum and dad. _

Wally sighed as he looked over the letter again. It was really good he had heard from his mother and father again. It was the first time he had heard from them since he had left to begin training in England. He was going to have to write back to them soon-

"Alright men!" a voice bellowed from the main part of the dugout. "Get your things together," a pause. "Where the Hell is that god damn Wallace?"

Footsteps filled the air and a figure appeared in the opening to the room. It was Adam.

"There you are!" he said in an annoyed voice to Wally. "C'mon, pack up your stuf-"

He stopped when he saw the letter in Wally's hand. He let out a deep breath.

"I see you got your letter," he said.

Wally nodded. "And there wasn't anything crossed out in it,"

Adam nodded. "Well c'mon," he said. "Get your stuff together,"

"Where are we going?"

"We're being transferred to another trench,"

Adam disappeared back into the main part of the dugout. Wally folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope and followed Adam into the main part of the dugout. Moe had come back and was packing up his stuff into his backpack. Hans was doing the same. Wally walked over to his bed and reached under it and took out his backpack and opened it up to check that everything was in there.

_Let's see. _He mentally said to himself. _Diary, extra rifle bullets. And now my letter. _

Wally placed the letter in his backpack and knelt down and reached under his bed for his rifle. He took the weapon and put his arm through the strap and left it hanging from his shoulder. He then took his backpack and placed on his back.

"That everything?" Adam asked, looking to and from his men. He too had his backpack on and his rifle slung over his shoulder, as did Hans and Moe. They nodded. "Right, let's go,"

Adam walked out of the dugout. Moe was behind him and Hans was behind him with Wally bringing up the rear.

"Oh, hang on!" Hans said, turning to walk back into the dugout. "I've forgotten something,"

Adam muttered something under his breath and walked out into the trench. Moe and Wally followed. As they emerged outside, they were hit by the cold breeze again, making them shiver. They walked down the trench, making sure they keep their heads low so they did not present themselves as a target to any German snipers.

"What the…?" a voice shouted from the dugout.

Wally, Moe, Adam and a few other soldiers turned to see Hans emerge from the dugout. In his hand was his cigarette case. Wally's eyes went wide. Oh crap, he just realised that he had taken a few, or more like almost all, of Hans' cigarettes a few days ago when the Germans threw that fake grenade over, and Hans had not realised because he had not had a cigarette since then.

"What is it?" Moe asked him.

"I just opened my cigarette case and almost all of my fags are gone," Hans told him. "What happened to 'em?"

Before Moe could reply, Wally quickly walked past him and Adam down the trench at a rather fast pace. He hoped to get away before Hans realised.

"Wally!" Hans called him in a sort of annoyed voice. Oh crap, he had just probably realised. "What did you do with my cigarettes?"

_Note to self: don't ever take Hans' cigarettes _Wally mentally said to himself as he hurried onwards down the trench with Hans not far behind him. Adam just shook his head and followed with Moe behind him.


	24. A new friendship?

**Later that day**

The day was coming to an end on the Western Front. Although the Sun had been out today, it was still very cold and it was to get even colder as the night was about to draw in. The Sun was dipping west below the far off but easily recognizable silhouettes of the destroyed villages. Soon, darkness would quickly engulf the frontline, a good time for sentries as they could stand up on the mud seat or even just in front of the parapet just behind the barbed wire. However, until then all sentries were keeping a low profile so they were not a target for any German snipers that were on the other side of No Man's Land.

The journey south for Adam and his squad had been long and hard. They had only been walking fifteen minutes when a few mortars had landed in the trenches where they were and had seen two men be killed outright, which was quite disturbing. Then, after about another two hours without any incident, The British artillery started firing from behind the line and Adam ordered his squad into the rear trenches as he knew the Germans would retaliate as soon as the British artillery stopped firing. He was right as hen the British stopped firing their artillery, the ground had only about a twenty second rest bite before the Germans fired their guns, pounding the trenches relentlessly for about twenty minutes. By the time it was over, and Adam and his squad had just made it out of the affected area, about a few dozen had been killed by either the shells dead on them or by shrapnel, which had wounded another few dozen more.

_A field day for the hospital_ Wally thought as he had watched the stretcher bearers take the men away.

Finally, they had reached the new dugout that was in a slightly thinner trench that was higher with no mud seat. Their new dugout was in a kind of bulge-like shape that stuck out from the trench where a few sandbags were piled up and a machine gun lay on the top of them, pointing out over No man's Land towards the German trenches which were just over a hundred and thirty yards away, a little further than in the last dugout area but still not far enough to get away from the ever threatening thought of being shot or snipped in the head or torn apart by artillery and shrapnel.

As they walked around a bend into the part of the trench with the dugout, the squad saw five men standing with their rifles aimed out across No Man's Land, one of them next to the machine gun nest, and their arms resting on the parapet. Not far behind them, in a small square shaped hole in the trench's side, were three other men who had somehow managed to cramp themselves _and _a small table and were playing cards. It was amazing to see how five men were keeping an eye out for any enemy attacks just a few feet away from three men who were relaxing and probably seemed to be completely ignoring the fact that a shell could land in the trench and easily kill all of them.

"Right," Adam announced as they passed the men in the small square shaped hole. "Here's our new home, boys," he said, ducking low and walking into an opening in the trench's side just behind the machine gun nest. Wally, who had managed to avoid being throttled by Hans due to the artillery bombardment earlier on and he seemed to have forgotten it by now, Moe and Hans followed Adam into the dugout.

It was pretty much the same as their previous one: a large rectangular shaped room with wooden boards as the walls, a table with several large crates to act as chairs and a few single beds, but there was no opening in the top left corner of the room as there had been in their last dugout and there were two bunk beds, showing that more men were going to be in this dugout than in the last one.

"Take your pick, lads. We're the new occupiers for now," Adam said to them.

Wally walked over to a single bed that was next to the left wall and placed his backpack on it and his rifle next to that. Moe walked over to one of the two bunk beds that was placed sideways against the front wall of the dugout and climbed onto the top bunk. Hans walked over to another of the single beds, placed sideways against the wall where the opening was, and put his backpack on it. Adam put his backpack on the last single bed that was placed sideways against the right wall.

As Moe and Hans unpacked their things, Adam placed his backpack on the ground and pushed it under his bed and took out his Bible from his breast pocket and walked outside. Wally saw him go and, after pushing his backpack and rifle under his bed, followed him out.

Adam was sitting in the machine gun nest with his back against the sandbag wall, his head just a few inches below the top, reading his Bible. He saw Wally walk up to him.

"What is it, Wallace?" he asked. "And I'd sit down if I were you," he added, reminding Wally of the danger of him standing upright.

"Um…" Wally began as he sat down on the edge of the machine gun nest, but quickly trailed off. Adam waited patiently for him to reply. "It's…" Wally began again after a few seconds. "It's about my…letter,"

"If you think either me or Gomer had a look at it before you did, your wrong," Adam told him. "I took it from the mail man and put it on the table in the spare room for you,"

"What…y-you took it and…left it there?" Wally asked him, just to make sure he was not hearing things.

"Yes," Adam replied. "Why, do you have a problem with that?"

"No, It's just that…you did that because…you knew Gomer would get it,"

"That's right,"

"But why? I thought you and him were friends."

"Well, I'm getting to the point where I can't stand 'im anymore. He's really starting to do my 'ead in, always goin' on about how great an officer he was when he was in Dover. Thinks he's tough as well, but he's not had to live in this god damn hellhole for the past six months and getting our behind's kicked-"

"Hang on," Wally interrupted him. "In my letter, my mother told me that we were doing really well,"

Adam scoffed. "Doing really well?" he repeated. "No, what their listening to is a pile of crap! The government wants our people back in Blighty to believe we're winning, but in reality we're getting our rear ends handed to us along the front and apparently, we're supposed to be launching a few offensives to break the German lines," he let out another irritated scoff and drew up his knees so they were close to his face and rested his head between them. "Like that's ever going to happen,"

"Why are you sounding like we haven't made any progress in this war so far?" Wally asked him.

"Because that's the fact: we haven't," he replied. "Not long after we landed, we went into Belgium alongside the Frenchies to drive the Germans back. But when we got around Mons, we took a right kicking and were forced back out of Belgium and almost to Paris itself. But by the grace of God or someone up there, we and the Frenchies managed to regroup and fought off the Germans on the Marne and saved Paris. Than after that, we drove the Germans back until we smashed straight into their trenches and, well this is the result of the war so far," he concluded. He sighed and rubbed the top of his head with his hand. "I've hated every minute of it since we were defeated at Mons. After that-" he sighed again. "-I just lost all hope of us winning this war by Christmas,"

Wally took in all of what Adam was telling him. He could not believe it. All this time, the news about the British and French armies doing really well in France was all a lie. All of it. He felt really disgusted. How could a nation do something like this? How could they lie about their army pretending to do really well when in reality they were getting the crap beaten out of them? It was not right, and it was probably the same thing with messages home to families of those that had died so far. The army had probably written saying things like _"Your son/husband had died a heroic death fighting the Boche." _Well that a lie as well, and it was definitely, without a doubt, the wrong thing for the army to say to that soldier's family when the officers on the ground knew that the soldier in the message had probably died a long and painful death, something he did not at all deserve.

Adam moved his legs back out in front of him and read on in his Bible.

"You best unpack your stuff," he said to Wally, who nodded and stood up, keeping his head low to avoid sniper fire and also to get into the dugout.

As he walked over to unpack his stuff, it hit him that he had had a friendly conversation with Adam since… Well, since he had first arrived here. Plus, Adam had saved his letter from being torn open and having things crossed out on it by Gomer.

Maybe… Things were looking up between them.


	25. Saving the captain

**Ten days later**

If there was one thing that Wally was scared of about being on the front line, it was sentry duty. Having to stand on the edge of the trench with your rifle aimed out across No Man's Land could not make you feel more scared. With your head exposed and the most likely threat of getting a bullet through it made even the toughest soldiers feel scared about being on the front line. Wally would do anything to get out of this sentry duty and get rid of the threat of him having his head blown off.

Further down the trench to his right were three men in the machine gun nest, one on the gun; one holding ammunition to the right of the gunner and a soldier that was holding a tiny pair of binoculars to the left of the gunner was looking out over No Man's Land at the German trenches, to which beyond them was the ruined village of Thiepval. Whilst the machine gunner and the soldier holding the ammunition were lying down, the soldier with the binoculars was partly sitting up, exposing the top of his head. If a German sniper saw him, he was dead. He would just have to hope luck was on his side.

"Stay sharp, men," a voice further down the trench said.

Wally groaned. That voice belonged to the one person he really wished had stayed up in the last trench. He looked down the trench and saw Gomer walking up it. He had just been telling the men on the machine gun position to stay sharp and now he was walking towards him, no doubt he had something to say to Wally.

"I hope your keeping your eyes on the Boche, Wallace," he said, stopping next to Wally. "Don't go running off now,"

"Go away, Gomer," Wally muttered as he turned to look back out across No Man's Land.

Gomer chuckled. "Is that all you can throw at me?" he asked mockingly. He chuckled again. "You'll have to do better than that, Wallace,"

"That's enough, Gomer!" a voice barked sharply, making him and Wally jump.

The two looked down the trench to see Adam walk away from the dugout entrance. He looked very angry and was glaring at Gomer.

"What are you doing?" he asked Gomer as he stopped in front of him.

"Just…making sure Wallace here stays awake, sir," Gomer replied, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Well move on!" Adam barked. "I'm sure he can manage without you pestering 'im all day!"

Gomer stared at Adam for a second, completely shocked. He had never spoken to him before. In fact, they were like best friends and now, all of a sudden, he had turned against him. Then, he nodded and walked down the trench.

"Thanks, Adam," Wally said to him when Gomer was out of earshot. "He was really getting on my nerves,"

Adam nodded and turned and walked back to the dugout. Wally resumed looking out over No Man's Land.

WHOOSH! BOOM! WHOOSH BOOM!

Two explosions erupted further up the trench near the machine gun nest, throwing a cloud of dirt and debris into the air. A scream followed not even a millisecond later as one of the men in the machine gun nests fell to the ground, dead.

"GET TO COVER!" an officer from a nearby section of trench that led to the rear trenches shouted.

Wally did not need telling twice. He dived to the ground, ignoring the pain when his rifle hit him in the back, and covered his head with his hands as more shells exploded around him in or behind the trench or in No Man's Land. More screams filled the air as they landed, meaning they were either the last cries that person emitted or they were to suffer painfully for a long time now because of shrapnel injuries.

"AAAAAHHH!"

Wally looked up half-way and saw a soldier crumple to the ground about ten feet ahead of him. He could see that the soldier's coast was torn, as was his tunic around his chest, which was now stained with blood. The soldier struggled to move as his body felt like it had been stabbed a thousand times. Thankfully, he did not have to wait long as a medical personal soldier, who was tall and quite heavily built, ran up the trench and picked up the soldier and carried him back to another section of trench that led to the rear trenches.

"Wally!" a voice shouted to him over the noise of the barrage. He looked over his shoulder and saw Adam kneeling down in the doorway of the dugout moving his arm through the air towards himself. "Get over here!"

Slowly and carefully so as not to be hit by shrapnel, Wally got up so he was crouching, turned and, keeping his head low and picking up his rifle, ran down the trench over to Adam, who grabbed him and threw him into the dugout and followed him in.

As Wally stood up, he saw two other young looking soldiers sitting on the bottom bunks of the dugout's two beds. One of them, a brown haired soldier who looked to be about sixteen and was from Cornwall, was sitting on the bunk bed below Moe, who was reading a book and acting as if nothing was going on, with his hand over his ears as if he were trying to block out the noise of the shells, but to no avail. The other, who was blonde haired and looked about seventeen and was from Manchester, had his head in his hands and was cradling it back and forth and muttering and moaning under his breath as the shells crashed overhead. Wally sighed at seeing these two young soldiers affected by the shelling. They had only arrived yesterday and even then they were met with a barrage that made them witness many men being killed or injured.

They were what the soldiers called 'The babies of the front' because they had only been here a short time. Adam took off his hat and dropped it on his bed and walked over to the soldier from Cornwall and sat down on the bed next to him.

"You'll be alright, Robert," he said as he placed a hand on his shoulder to trey and reassure him he was okay. "You'll get used to it,"

The soldier looked up at Adam, revealing red marks around his eyes from lack of sleep.

"They've been launching shells at our lines almost non-stop since yesterday," Robert replied in a hopeless tone. "How much longer?"

Adam did not reply and looked into Robert's eyes that were filled with sadness and despair. He sighed and patted his shoulder and looked ahead of him at the floor.

"Not too long," he said. "Not too long,"

An explosion erupted almost just outside the dugout, throwing up a large pile of wooden boards that made up the trench floor. A man's voice shouted from outside and two pair of legs ran past the dugout entrance, carrying a stretcher between them. Lying on it was a wounded soldier who had a bloodied bandage covering the side of his head.

_I'd hate to be him_ Adam thought as the men disappeared from sight from the dugout entrance.

Wally walked past Hans, who was lying on his bed looking up at the ceiling, entranced in a daydream, and sat down on his bed. He placed the end of his rifle on his lap and reached under his bed and pulled out his backpack and opened it and took out a piece of white cloth. He began to wipe the end of his rifle, staining the cloth a brownish/black colour as the thin layers of dirt came off it. Another shell crashed overhead, making a small cloud of dust fall from the ceiling of the dugout. The men looked up with wide eyes, silently praying that it would not cave in. Thankfully, it did not.

Then, after a few more seconds of explosions, the shelling ended. Wally stopped cleaning his rifle and Hans immediately sat up. No sooner than a second passed before a voice shouted: "Right lads, get into positions!" Instantly, Wally, Hans, Auto, Robert, Moe, who jumped down from the top bunk, and the soldier sitting on the other lower bunk of the other bunk bed, leapt to their feet, put on their helmets, grabbed their rifles if they did not already have them, and rushed outside into the trench.

It was a lot different than when they had been out there a few moments earlier. There was a huge hole in the trench floor, two enormous holes on the right side of the trench (the side that was on No Man's Land) and there were pieces of metal or wood scattered across the floor. Six other soldiers with their rifles were lined up along the trench, their rifles aiming out across No Man's Land. The two men that had previously been on the machine gun nest had been joined by another soldier.

Wally, Hans, Moe, Robert and the soldier from Manchester lined up along the trench and aimed their rifles out across No Man's Land. The seconds ticked by. _One, two. One, two_. No movement across No Man's Land from the German trenches. Was this just a shelling? Or were they preparing for something el-

WHOOSH! BOOM! Another explosion erupted further down the trench, followed by a scream as a soldier a few feet from the right side of the machine gun nest collapsed to the trench floor. Another soldier next to him grabbed him and pulled him away towards a section of trench that led to the rear trenches. 

"Here comes Jerry!" Robert shouted all of a sudden.

The men looked back across No Man's Land and saw a seemingly endless wave of men rushing towards them. Germans! Instantly, a barrage of gunfire flew out from the British soldiers towards them. A few of the Germans fell but they just charged on, filled with determination to destroy their enemies.

Wally watched as the fighting ensued around him. He still could not do it. He just could not find it within him to fire at the Germans.

"Keep firing, lads!" an officer shouted as he walked past Adam up the trench, heading in Wally's direction.

Wally went wide-eyed and thought quickly. He aimed his rifle at the Germans and fired. A German fell to the ground and did not rise afterwards. Wally fired a few more times, joining in the firing chorus of his comrades around him.

The officer walked past Wally and began shouting at a group of other soldier to start firing. Adam looked over at Wally and went wide-eyed when he saw him fire.

"Wally," he said over the noise of the gunfire, drawing Wally's attention. He went to speak when another explosion a few metres behind the trench cut him off. Another mortar shell probably.

Finally, the wave of Germans, now numbering to about forty or fifty from It's previous hundred when they started the trench raid, retreated back towards their own lines. Some of them turned and ran as fast as they could, diving into shell holes to avoid gunfire, whilst others were running backwards, firing their rifles at the British. One of them threw a grenade at the British trench at the machine gun nest. The men, who were firing away at the retreating Germans, failed to hear their comrades shout to them of the coming danger, or even notice them as the soldiers either side of the machine gun nest dived away from it.

BOOM! The grenade exploded as it landed a few feet behind the men in the machine gun nest. They yelled out and collapsed to the ground, dead. More gunfire filled the air, followed by more Germans falling to the ground in No Man's Land.

"Let's get 'em, lads," an officer shouted, taking out his pistol and pulling himself over the parapet of the trench and rushing out into No Man's Land. The men followed suite, swarming en masse out of their trenches towards the German trenches.

Wally ran across No Man's Land a few feet to the left of Hans and a few feet to the right of Robert. Moe and the soldier from Manchester were not far behind them with Adam. The men fired at the German trenches, only to be met with the same barrage from the German trenches that they had given to the Germans a few moments earlier. Now it was the British's turn to lose men across this attack, counterattack game across No Man's Land. Many British soldiers fell as they were hit by the wave of bullets. Wally, like all the other men charging towards the British trenches, he was just praying he would not be hit.

_Please don't hit me! Please don't hit me! _Seemed to run through his mind constantly, and it only increased as he got closer to the German trenches.

BOOM! BOOM! Two explosions erupted not far behind Wally. He looked behind him and saw two soldiers about ten feet behind Adam yell out and collapse to the ground and did not rise afterwards. He recognized one of them as the soldier from Manchester. Another young soldier fallen in combat, and it was obvious he would not be the last.

Then, just like with the Germans moments earlier, the British force turned and ran back towards their trenches. Also like the Germans moments earlier, some of them were running backwards, firing as they went. Wally was not, though. He just wanted to get back to the safety of the trench quickly before he became the target of a German soldier.

He looked around him and saw Hans, Moe and Robert also running back towards the trench. A small sigh of relief passed his lips. They were safe and soun-hang on. Where was Adam?

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" He looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened with shock.

Lying on the ground and clutching his leg was Adam. By the looks of it, he had been hit by a bullet. He tried to crawl on but he only made himself yell out in pain and clutch his leg tighter.

Wally skidded to a halt and looked from Adam and back at the British trenches. He did not know what to do. He wanted to get to cover but he did not want to leave a fellow soldier out in No Man's Land either. What was he to do?

"Wally!" a voice shouted from the British trench. He looked and saw it was Moe. "C'mon, get over 'ere!"

Wally took a step towards the trench but stopped, his mind still locked in the tug of war between getting to cover and rescuing Adam.

Finally, he turned and ran back out into No Man's Land over to Adam. Hans, Moe and a few other soldiers shouted after him but he ignored them.

He skidded to a halt, kicking up a load of dirt, when he reached Adam and grabbed him on the shoulders.

"Wally, what are doing?" he shouted furiously. "You'll get yourself killed!"

"Well I'm not leaving you out here," Wally replied as he tried pulling Adam back towards the trench, but it turned out he was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Argh…leave me! Get away, leave me here!" he hissed as Wally, out of both anger and the pain flaring from his leg, but Wally ignored him and was trying to find another way to get him and Adam to the trench.

Finally, he grabbed Adam on the chest and, with an almighty grunt, lifted Adam up off the ground. His arms were shaking with the extra weight but he managed to hold onto Adam. He ran back as fast as he could to the trench. A few soldiers in the trench, three of them manning the machine gun in the machine gun nest, fired at the Germans to provide some covering fire. It did help a bit, but it was obvious the Germans were not really going to waste ammunition in trying to kill a wounded enemy soldier and the soldier carrying him to safety.

Finally, after a few moments of carrying a tall but heavy person to safety, Wally reached the trench. Moe and Hans grabbed hold of Adam's upper body and took hold of him from Wally, who breathed a sigh of relief and stepped down into the trench, resting his back against the side of the trench as two stretcher bearers came over with a stretcher and placed Adam on it.

"Wait," he said as the stretchers were about to leave. They stopped and Adam looked up at Wally. "I'm glad you've finally seen sense, Wally," he said.

Wally smiled meekly and nodded. The two stretcher bearers picked up the stretcher and ran over to the section of trench that led to the rear trenches. They ran into the trench and disappeared from sight.

When he was out of sight, Wally sighed and cursed himself for lying. Truth was, when he was firing at the Germans, he was actually firing at the ground not far from them to make it look like he was firing _at_ them. Well, even though he had finally gotten Adam and the officers off his back for firing at the Germans, he had still lied and he could not think of what would happen if Adam found out.

He sighed and walked back to the dugout. Around him, his comrades were picking up the bodies of those that had fallen in the raid and were taking them away to the stretcher bearers for them to dispose of.


	26. Reminding me of home

**Two days later**

**Date: February 14****th****, 1915**

**Location: one mile behind the British front line**

**Time: 21:00pm**

Other than the cold weather in winter, there was rain, and last night and through most of the day it had been pouring with rain, turning the mud in No Man's land into more of a clay-like sludge that seemed to stick to everything. It was a bit of a blessing though. If either side tried to attack the other, it would be bogged down and make the attackers easy targets. However, like all blessing, there was something that spoiled it. For this blessing, there was not just one thing; there were a number of them.

Firstly, the rain had caused the mud along the parapet and that made up the sides of the trench to go soft and become loose, going all over the trench floor. Also, the rain had caused the trench to flood to ankle height, making walking or even moving in the trench very difficult. Secondly, and this was very bad, the ground behind the front lines had not fared much better. Even in the places where there were paved roads, the mud had been churned up and made travelling along even them hard. And if there were no paved roads, it was a nightmare, especially for the artillery as on both sides most of the artillery was moved by horses but in bad weather, it made travelling for them difficult for a number of reasons like the horses slipping up or the artillery getting stuck in the mud and having to push the horses to their limits, even with the assistance of any nearby troops, to get the artillery moving again, only to meet the same problem not long afterwards.

For Wally, seeing all of this affected him quite deeply. He was a great lover of horses, and yet these beautiful and great animals had been dragged from their normal and happy lives into a conflict not of their making, and it was one they had a high chance of dying in. If it was not from bullets during cavalry charges, then it was from shrapnel from shells from the opposite side as they fired on the rear positions of their enemy army. If they were to be hit by shrapnel, they would most likely, unless a soldier with his rifle happened to be nearby, to suffer a long and painful death, one they did not deserve. Horses in this war were not taking sides, they were just being used to help in killing the opposing army of either sides, and every day many were being killed, and many more would follow before this war was over.

Outside a small barn perched near a line of trees along the left side of a small paved road, Wally sat, resting, against a pile of hay. The farmhouse, a small cottage, was about twenty feet away from the barn. They had been abandoned by the owners earlier on last year when the Germans had temporarily occupied this area during their great offensive before they were driven back to their fortifications. The barn doors were wide open because Hans, Moe and Robert and a few other soldiers were resting inside so they could avoid getting their bottoms wet. Wally, however, just wanted to be alone and to be completely honest, he really could not care less if his bottom got wet from the mud. For all he cared, a bucket of mud and freezing cold water could have been poured onto his head and become a laughing stalk; he just really would not care.

Right now, his thoughts were with his brother, wondering if he was going through the same terrifying experience up at Ypres that he was having to go through down here, and with Adam, hoping that he was okay. He had gone to see Eve last night and she had treated Adam's wound and told Wally that he was lucky and his leg was saved, but he would be out of action for a while. Not good for the squad as it meant that Gomer, who was another officer in their squad, would have to take control. Thankfully, though, Gomer was still at the trenches, sorting out some business, which was good as the men did not have to put up with him, for tonight at least.

Wally sighed and looked up at the sky, which was clear but a few clouds were just visible in the moonlight. A few white lights shone in the forever stretching black sky above him; stars.

_They're so peaceful. _Wally thought lovingly. _If only the same thing could be said for down here._

A snort snapped him back into reality. It came from his right. He looked and saw a few large creatures moving across the mud covered field, about seven of them, one at the front of the group and the rest following close behind two-by-two. They were horses. Behind them were a few soldiers, who were around some kind of large artillery weapon that was silhouetted in the light emanating from the sky. Although it was difficult to see, it looked like the horses hooves were covered with a brown sludge; mud. The artillery wheels were also covered in a sludge-like substance as well.

"C'mon!" Wally heard one of the men growl as he walked forward past the soldier ahead of him to the leading horse, which had become stuck in a small hole of mud. The creature snorted and tried to move forward but almost ended up falling over, and would have done if it had not been for the soldier, who received a splat of mud across his uniform as the horses kicked the mud with It's other front foot.

"You bloody bastard!" Wally heard the soldier hiss, giving the horse a small slap and he pulled on the reins to get the horses to move forward. The horse moved forward a few paces, finally getting It's foot free from the hole, but stopped again. The soldier growled again and pulled harder on the reins, almost practically dragging the horse towards him.

"Careful, Harry!" one of the other soldiers, who had a Welsh accent, barked at the soldier pulling the horse. "He won't follow you if you try and pull his head off!"

"Why don't you shut your bloody trap and get over 'ere and 'elp me!" the soldier growled.

The Welsh soldier sighed and walked over to the front and gently pulled the horse's reins. This time, the animal followed suite, trotting on towards the mud path. The other horses followed the leader, pulling the artillery with them. The other soldiers walked alongside the artillery piece.

"There ya' go," the Welsh soldier said to the other soldier, releasing the leading horse's reins. "If you're gentle with 'im, he'll follow you,"

The other soldier tutted and grabbed the reins and pulled forward again, leaning towards the paved road as he walked. The leading horse, along with the other horses and the artillery, followed. Wally watched them go through the trees, across the paved road and disappeared into the darkness that seemed to have engulfed the opposite field. He sighed and rested his back against the pile of hay. Even when they were trying to help, horses were still receiving pain.

His own horses back home on the farm filled his mind. He missed them as much as he missed his brother and his mother and father working on and with them. He would give anything to be with them again. Anything.

After another moment, Wally stood up and walked into the barn and slumped down on a large mound of hay. The others were already asleep around the barn, either resting against a pile of hay or against a mound of hay like Wally. Wally lay there for a few moments before he drifted into a deep sleep, letting darkness take him for the night.


	27. The start of an offensive

**Four days later**

Another cold day had greeted the men when they had woken up from their wooden beds with wire bedding and thin sheets. At least there was no cold breeze cutting through everyone like it had been doing for the past few weeks but, still, the men had their jackets and coasts on to keep them warm.

However, most of the men, especially on the German side of No Man's Land, had not gotten a lot of sleep through the night, or even for the last few nights for that matter. The reason: for the past three days, the British guns a few miles behind the line had been firing away like mad at the Germans as a preparation for an assault that was to take the German lines and try and break the stalemate and drive the Germans back to the Belgium border. And it was to start today. Luckily, though the guns had lessened their barrage a little, at least to the point where the booms from the German side of No Man's Land could not be heard from within a dugout.

Wally emerged from the dugout with his rifle in his hand. Moe and Hans were sitting in the square shaped hole, talking but also waiting for the attack to begin. Robert was with two other soldiers in the machine gun nest, looking through a periscope at the German trenches. Wally looked up and down the trench and saw Gomer walking towards them.

_Oh great! _Wally thought lowly at the thought of knowing that he would no doubt begin picking on them and sighed. _Well, I best talk with Hans and Moe whilst I still have the chance._

Wally walked up the trench towards the square shaped hole. Moe, who was sitting against the left wall of the hole, saw him coming.

"You alright, Wally?" he asked, who nodded in reply as he knelt down at the hole's entrance.

"So…" Hans began but quickly trailed off for a few seconds in trying to find the right words to say. "You guys ready for the attack?" he asked.

"Not really," Wally replied as Moe shook his head for his reply to the question. "I can only imagine what'll happen when we get over there,"

"Us killing the Huns as a starter," Moe piped up as he shifted and laid down a bit more, letting his back slide down the wall a little. "Then us kicking 'em back to their borders," his voice became a bit more cheerful. "I've heard that if we break through here, we'll break the stalemate and drive 'em back across the entire front line."

"If we do, how long d'you bet It'll be before we go home?" Wally asked.

"A few weeks at the most," Hans replied. "If we're quick enough, then we'll probably have the war over by this summe-"

"C'mon, stop slouching about!" a voice barked a little further down the trench. Gomer's voice.

"Eyes up, 'ere comes Gofer," Moe warned jokingly, making him, Wally and Hans smirk, though they tried to hide it in case Gomer saw them.

"I completely forgot that we called him that," Hans commented.

As Gomer walked towards them, he saw Wally and Moe laughing and looking at him, but they quickly muttered amongst themselves and stopped, though it was hard trying to get rid of the smug looks on their faces.

"What's the meaning of this?" he barked at them. "C'mon, get up. We're not in a bloody hotel here,"

"Oh, we're very sorry," Moe replied mockingly. He paused for a second, trying desperately not to laugh but he could not help it and added: "Gofer,"

Wally snorted with laughter and Hans slapped his hand onto his knee as he burst out laughing. Moe chuckled and ended up resting his head against the wall behind him for support.

Gomer, on the other hand, was furious. His eyes filled with anger, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes narrowed. They were mocking him, and calling him 'Gofer'! He was not going to stand for this!

"What did you call me?" he whispered angrily and dangerously at Moe.

"Hey, I think here a squeaking noise," Wally joked and looked up at Gomer, who greeted him with an angry gaze as he looked down at the soldier. "Oh, It's you,"

That did it. Hans and Moe cracked up with laughter, Moe holding his sides as he laughed out loud. Robert and the two soldiers in the machine gun nest, as well as a few other soldiers up and down the trench near the four, turned their heads to see where the laughter was coming from. Wally had his hand on the wooden panel on the side of the trench above the hole to support him as he laughed as his joke. Gomer was looking as furious as ever. In fact, his face was starting to turn red with anger, his hands began to shake and he looked like he was going to throttle Wally.

Then, to Wally's amazement, Gomer breathed a heavy breath to calm down.

"Just stay alert!" he growled at them and with that he stormed off past them up the trench. Wally watched him go and another joke came into his mind.

"Hey guys," he whispered to Hans and Moe. "Remember this." And he lowered his voice a little so he was mocking Gomer. "Left. Left. Left."

Moe chuckled behind his closed mouth and Hans burst out laughing again. The three looked out at Gomer and shouted, in voices that sounded like they were mocking Gomer, "Left! Left! Left!" as he moved his left foot as he stormed off down the trench. Gomer stormed off faster than ever, making the three laugh again.

A few moments later, the sound of running feet filled the air and Robert appeared beside Wally.

"What was that about?" he asked them, kneeling down beside Wally.

"Oh, we were just telling Gomer what we thought of him," Hans replied. "And reminding him of old times from when he was training us back in Dover,"

Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked up at Gomer just in time to see him disappear behind a bend in the trenches.

"I saw his face when he stormed off," he said. "He looked like he was gonna throttle you guys," 

"Nah, he wouldn't have," Moe told him. "He won't do anything if we're altogether, even if he is our officer."

"We can thank God that he's only temporarily our officer," Robert said. "At least until Adam gets back,"

Wally nodded.

"I talked with Eve the other night and she said he would be out of action for a while," he said.

"Hang on, who's this Eve?" Moe asked, suddenly sitting up.

"She's…a nurse at the nearby hospital." Wally replied.

"And she's also his girlfriend," Hans added.

Wally glared at him, but Hans just chuckled. Moe and Robert smiled smugly at Wally.

"Aww, Wally's got a girlfriend," Moe said mockingly.

"You should write to her," Robert told him. "Give her a couple of kisses,"

Moe and Hans laughed loudly at this. Wally rolled his eyes.

"Thanks a lot, Robert,"

"He's right, though, Wally," Hans replied. "You should write to her. She'll send you a letter back, probably write something like _"I'm missing you always," _he finished in a high pitched voice to sound like a girl. Moe and Robert and even Wally laughed at this.

"Thanks a lot, guys," Wally said.

"Anytime, Wally," Moe replied.

"Right, everyone get ready," a voice bellowed from a section of trench near the dugout. "Attacks due to start in a minute,"

Wally stood up and moved back to allow Hans and Moe to leave the hole. Robert got up and rushed back to the machine gun nest. Wally, Moe and Hans lined along the trench. More soldiers appeared from other dugouts scattered along the trench wall behind them and lined up either side of them. One officer appeared with a periscope and quickly squeezed in between two soldiers to Hans' right and looked across No Man's Land.

He went wide-eyed at what he could see. Large shell holes were visible across No Man's Land. At the other end at the German trenches, the earth was literally being thrown up in huge chunks as a shell hit that area and, though the officer was not certain, he was sure he saw a few curved tops moving about, only to fall when a shell exploded near them.

"Bloody Hell," he said as he continued to survey the war torn landscape in front of him. "I actually feel sorry for the Boche. I'm surprised even a few of 'em have lived through that barrage,"

"Yeah, well they won't be living through us," a tall, tough looking soldier next to the officer replied. "I just want to get over there and hammer 'em,"

"At ease, lad," the officer said, patting the soldier's arm. "We'll be over there soon enough and then you can sink your bayonets into them,"

The officer walked past the soldier over to the machine gun nest and began talking to Robert and the other two soldiers there. Wally, however, had overheard him speaking and he was shocked.

_What! We're not taking prisoners? _

B-but that…that was not right. Okay, they were the enemy but he knew there would be some over there that would be more than willing to surrender rather than fight an overwhelming British force. But the officer sounded as if they were not planning on taking any prisoners. Why? It would not be the right thing to do! It would not be fair!

"Stand ready!" the officer commanded.

The men held their rifles in front of them. Suddenly, the happiness and laughter that Wally, Moe and Hans had been filled with just moments earlier seemed to disappear from them as if God had just taken it. Now they realised that they were going into battle again, and yet even though they had survived all the past raids and attacks, they were never certain whether or not if a bullet over on the German side had their name written on it. They would just have to wait and pray that they were not hit.

"On the signal," the officer shouted out.

Wally took a deep breath to calm down, but his heart was beating madly against his chest. This was the first time he had been part of an offensive rather than a trench attack, and what was different about this was that they were going to have to try and _take_ the German trench. It was easier said than done and he was certain many men lined up here now would be dead before the attack was over.

Suddenly, a whistle blowing filled the air and the men, as if they were being controlled automatically, climbed over the parapet and back into No Man's Land. Just as they did, the earth and bits of trench that were being hurtled into the air came to a sudden end. The barrage was over and now they had only about a minute, or probably even just under that before the Germans regrouped and opened fire on them.

The wave of men charged forward, re-enacting the many failed trench attacks that had taken placed in the past. Wally kept repeating the same thing over and over in his head as he ran across No Man's Land towards the German trenches.

_I'll be okay! I'll be okay! It's just a few moments running and I'll be in the safety of the trenches before I kno-_

"AAAAAHHH!"

Wally looked to his left and saw a young soldier with black hair crumple backwards to the ground. He-he had been shot! Suddenly, the sound of bullets zipping through the air filled his ears. More men screamed and collapsed to the ground around him.

Without thinking, Wally dived forward, only to land painfully on front as he fell into a shell hole that was about six feet deep and almost twice as wide. Wow, whatever made this must have been powerful.

Then, a few other figures rushed other and slid down the side of the shell hole to the bottom alongside Wally. It was Moe and another young looking soldier with blue eyes, red hair and looked about eighteen years old.

"Wally!" Moe exclaimed at seeing his friend was alive. "You're alive!"

"For now I am," Wally replied. "Where's Robert and Hans?" he asked.

"Dunno," Moe answered. "I just saw men getting cut down and…well, I just bolted for the nearest cover,"

"They've done well in reacting quickly, I'll give the bastards that," the other soldier piped up, drawing their gazes.

He was looking over the edge of the shellhole at the German trenches. He could see about twenty, no thirty Germans soldiers lined up along the trench firing at the British soldiers as they charged en masse towards their enemies. However, no matter how many losses the British seemed to be taking, they seemed to quickly replace them with more men that kept charging out from the trenches and heading across No Man's Land, most likely to their fate.

"We've gotta get over there," Moe said as he lay down next to the soldier.

"Don't you think we should just stay here?" Wally told him, but Moe ignored him.

"Have you got a grenade?" he asked the soldier, who nodded and took out a grenade. He pulled the pin off the bottom of it and threw the deadly device through the air towards the German trenches. The three lowered their heads and covered their ears, waiting for the explosion to happen.

Seconds later…BOOM! The grenade exploded. A few screams filled the air as several of the Germans fell and disappeared from sight. A few more near where the grenade had landed fell over, probably due to the shock of the device going off next to them all of a sudden. Moe looked up over the edge of the shell hole and saw their chance.

"Now! Quickly!" he said to Wally and the red haired soldier.

The three climbed out of the shell hole and rushed across No Man's Land. Not far around them, other British soldiers began to move forward as well, taking the chance to quickly sweep aside the remaining defenders of the German trench. Wally was overcome with terror. He was getting up close to the enemy, the first time since he had met Franz on Christmas Eve last year, only that time it had been a truce. This time it was close quarters fighting and if a German saw him, it was either going to be him or the German that would see his last day.

_Please don't let a German get near me! _Wally's mind pleaded. _Please!_

He would not be able to live with himself if a German saw him because he would have to fire on the German in order to defend himself. Even though he would live, the guilt and action of taking another soldier's life would stay with him forever, something he really did not want to happen.

Wally, Moe and the red haired soldier reached the trench and jumped into it. Almost instantly, they were overcome by the noise of shouting and gunfire that was taking place to the left and right of them. Some of the German soldiers were wrestling British soldiers with their rifles, putting in all their hatred and fury of the British to kill them, whilst others, which shocked Wally, were _still firing_ across No Man's Land. It was incredible. Their enemies were literally right next to them and yet they were still firing as if they were not even there. One German soldier about thirty feet to his right had a British soldier and a German soldier wrestling on the ground directly behind him and yet he was still firing at the British coming across No Man's Land as if he were unaware, or possibly even ignoring the threat behind him.

"C'mon, let's get 'em," the red haired soldier said.

He charged into the fray, quickly thrusting his bayonet at a German. The German cried in pain and clapped a hand over the wound on his chest and staggered back into the trench wall before he slid to the floor and moved no more. Moe followed the red haired soldier and they were quickly buried in the confusion of the battle raging around them.

Wally did not know what to do. Was he to fight, or stay where he was? The only friend that was over here and that he knew was alive was attacking the Germans, but he did not want to. But he could not run back across No Man's Land or he would be shot by his own side for cowardice. However, he just really did seem to care about that for the moment.

Suddenly, a battle cry behind him made him jump and his eyes grew wide with terror. He shot round to see who was making that battle cry.

It was a German, a young German soldier who looked no older than him. Wally could see he had hazel eyes, blonde hair and freckles. As young as he looked, however, this soldier was charging towards an enemy with his bayonet aiming out towards Wally, directly at his heart. It was as if Wally could see the very hatred burning away in his eyes as he charged towards him. By the looks of it, he had been fooled into hating his enemy and one was right in front of him right now and he was going to do what he had signed up to do.

He was going to kill him.

Wally stumbled backwards in panic, trying to find a way out of this.

"B-Bitte!" he shouted at the German. Franz's German lessons were the first thing that came into his mind, but he doubted they would save him, or if he was even saying the right word. "Bitte!" he shouted again. _Please!_

It had no effect whatsoever. The German lowered his bayonet and was bringing it back, ready to thrust it forward and kill the British soldier in front of him. Wally closed his eyes and waited for the tip of the blade to strike him.

Suddenly, a gunshot, that sounded very close, filled his ears. Wally opened his eyes just in time to see the young German fall to the trench floor. His eyes closed and his life now gone from his body. Another soldier jumped down into the trench in front of him. It was Hans.

"You okay, Wally?" he asked as he held out a hand to Wally, which he took and lifted himself up but did not reply to Hans' question and instead looked down at the dead young German on the floor in front of him.

"He was only young," he whispered. "He was only young,"

Hans did not appear to hear him. "What?" he asked, but before Wally could reply, a cheer erupted further down the trench. Moe, the red haired soldier and about fifteen other British soldiers were laughing and cheering.

"We got them on the run, lads!" an officer shouted enthusiastically as he jumped into the trench. "C'mon, let's get after them!"

The British soldiers ran into the sections of German trenches that led to their rear trenches, which were, no doubt, right now filled with German soldiers and officers, both unhurt and wounded, trying to escape the British who had broken in to their frontline trench.

"C'mon, let's get them, Wally," Hans said to him before running past him to the right and disappearing in a section of trench that led to the German rear trenches.

Wally stood, transfixed, where he was, looking down at the dead young German soldier on the floor in front of him. He felt sorry for him. He looked, and probably was, young with his whole life ahead of him and yet he had been sucked into this conflict like thousands of other young men, just like Wally. What he really felt sorry for about this boy was that his family would be receiving a knock on the door that they hoped they would never have to hear in this war.

After a moment of staring down at the body, Wally sighed sadly and rushed off after Hans, disappearing into the section of trench that led to the German rear trenches. In front of him, the sounds of gunfire and men shouting filled the air and the battle droned on into the day.


	28. Death of a friend

**Later that day**

In any offensive launched in war, many lives are claimed, and the start of the attack today proved that theory very right indeed. Since the start of the attack on the German trenches that morning, the British had suffered many dead and countless more wounded before they had even gotten to the German trench. However, after fierce hand-to-hand combat, the British were able to drive back the Germans, though both sides were suffering heavy casualties, but it looked as though the offensive would work in causing the German line to bend and, hopefully and eventually, break.

That was until about midday. Shortly after about twelve o'clock, when most of the men were sitting down to have a quick bite to eat and get some rest, the Germans launched a fierce counterattack that easily overwhelmed the few British soldiers that were still fighting and caused panic and rout. Many British soldiers quickly fled towards No Man's Land in an attempt to link up with reinforcements or even flee back to the British lines. Luckily, reinforcements _had _arrived and were quick to hold back the German advance, though only just as they were just under a hundred feet from where they had been driven from earlier on.

Wally and Robert were sitting on the floor of a section of German trench that was between a dead end in the trench and a turning that led left towards the rear trenches of the German line. They had been busy trying to get wounded back to the previous frontline German trenches where stretcher bearers were taking them back across No Man's Land back to the British trenches. Some of the wounded had really shocked them, one they were carrying to the stretcher bearers about half an hour ago had suffered three bullet wounds to his body, one to the chest, one to the arm and one to the face which…well, to put mildly, did leave a bad wound on his jaw. That sight was still going through their minds and so was the question of whether he would live or not, but that was always overshadowed by their own questions that they asked themselves in the morning whether they would live one more day on the frontline, which they received an answer to every day, some more hopeful than many others who had been unfortunate to have had their question answered too early.

A distant boom made them jump.

"Wonder what that was?" Robert asked as he stood up and looked over the parapet of the trench to see where the explosion had come from.

About one hundred feet ahead of him, he saw a white cloud of smoke hovering above a section of trench. _It was probably a mortar_ Robert said to himself as he looked on. A few shouts and shots filled the air from that direction, only to quickly be silenced by the WHOOSH of another mortar that exploded in the trenches, though a little closer than last time.

"Bloody Hell," Robert said as he lowered down and looked at Wally. "Our boys are taking a beating,"

"Maybe we should go," Wally suggested, getting up from the trench floor.

"I think that's a good idea," Robert replied.

The two walked down the trench and turned left into another section of trench that was much shorter than the section of the trench they had just left and had two exits at the end, one that led left, which led on to the rear trenches and the fighting, and the other right, which led back towards what had been the German frontline in No Man's Land. Along this trench's walls were several dugout entrances that the Germans had vacated quite rapidly when the British began pushing through the trenches. A few British soldiers, some of them were in groups with stretcher bearers, were running left and right through the trench, either desperately trying to get to the fighting or to evacuate those who had been wounded.

As Wally and Robert walked down the trench, heading straight towards the right entrance:

"INCOMING! GET DOWN!"

BOOM! BOOM! Two shells exploded about fifteen feet behind them. Wally dived to the floor, covering his head with his hands. Robert fell beside him, though landing on his side rather than on his front. More explosions erupted from all around them, throwing up large clouds of dirt and rubble. Men shouted and shots were fired. Another shell exploded about twenty feet ahead of Wally and Robert, causing a stretcher bearer to shout out and fall to the ground, dead.

Then, as quickly as it came, the shelling stopped, only to be replaced by the shouting and gunfire that was steadily growing louder with each passing second. That could only mean one thing: the Germans had attacked and were breaking through.

"Robert, we need to go," Wally said to him as he got up.

Robert's only reply was a strangled, shallow breath. Wally quickly noticed this and saw the reason why. A small trail of blood was coming through a hole in his uniform around his stomach. By the looks of it, a piece of shrapnel had cut into his stomach when one of the shells had burst nearby a few moments ago.

"H…hel-p-p!" Robert strangled to say.

Wally grabbed Robert and heaved him up over his shoulders and began ambling towards one of the nearby dugouts.

_Wow! My work on the farm at home really has paid off _Wally mentally said to himself as he lowered down and walked into one of the dugouts.

As soon as he entered the dugout, it was obvious that there was a big difference here than in the dugouts in the British trenches. This dugout was a bit larger and had more bunk beds with mattresses and sheets and even comfortable looking pillows! There were even bedside cabinets next to the beds and there was a larger table in the middle of the dugout with actual chairs around it and a proper light bulb hung from the ceiling.

"My God," Wally whispered to himself as he ambled into the dugout, his eyes searching every inch of the room. "No wonder the Germans are doing well in keeping us back,"

Robert let out a weak cough and the trail of blood began to run down Wally's shoulder and drip onto the floor. He would not have long left unless he received medical attention.

Wally ambled over to one of the nearby bunk beds and, gently, lowered Robert onto it. At once, the newly washed bed sheets began to turn red from Robert's blood. He coughed again, though it was weaker this time.

"Where about's on your stomach is it?" Wally asked Robert as he knelt down beside the bed.

Robert, weakly, moved his arm to his stomach and pulled open his coat. There was another hole in his tunic and there, Wally could just about see a tiny metal fragment sticking out. It looked no bigger than the piece of shrapnel that had been launched into his arm several weeks ago. Even so, it was amazing to see how a tiny piece of metal no bigger than a Human fingernail, or probably even less, could do so much damage.

"W-W-Wal-ly!" Robert whispered in pain. "Please…h-help m-m-ee!"

"Okay, um, wait here," Wally replied, quickly getting to his feet.

He rushed over to the dugout entrance and came out back into the trench. A few British soldiers ran from the left entrance of the trench to the right, obviously fleeing to get back to the relative safety of No Man's Land. A few more soldiers followed them. Wally's eyes searched every one of them, praying that he would be able to spot a medic or a doctor or anyone that would be able to help him.

Then, he finally saw a medic rush into the trench and shout at another soldier who was a few metres behind him.

"Sir!" Wally exclaimed, running up to the medic, who turned to face him.

"What are you doing here, you idiot? You should be getting the Hell out of here like everyone else!"

"You have to help me! My friend, he's injured! Please!"

"I can't help your friend, mate. And besides, we 've gotta go. The Germans are heading this way."

"We can't just leave him! Look, please! I'm begging you, just at least take a look at him and see if he'll live or not! Please!"

The medic stared at Wally for a second, as if he were mad, before turning his head towards the left entrance to the trench. The shouting and shooting was getting a lot louder and even a few bullets hit the end of the trench that led towards the trench Wally and the medic were in.

Finally, the medic sighed.

"Alright, but we better be quick," he said.

"Okay! Thank you! Thank you!" Wally replied.

He led the medic over to the dugout and they entered.

"My friend's over there," Wally said pointing to Robert. "I think he-"

"There isn't any point," the medic interrupted him.

"What?"

Wally looked over at the bed and at once, his body seemed to lose It's breath.

Robert was lying motionless on the bed sheets, his eyes closed and his coughs and weak breaths at an end, but the blood still came out of the wound on his stomach.

Wally rushed over to him and knelt down beside him.

"Robert?" Wally asked, hoping for a reply. "Robert, please wake up!"

He nudged his friend but he did not stir or even move. Wally placed two fingers on his pulse on his neck. At that moment, his worst fear became a reality.

Robert was dead.

Wally sighed and hit the bed with his fist hard, all his frustration and anger of not saving his friend coming out.

_If I had been quicker_ he cursed to himself. _If I had been God damn quicker!_

"Look, mate," the medic said, snapping Wally back into reality. "We can't do anything for him now, and we need to go,"

Outside the shots and shouts were louder than ever. The Germans were only forty feet away, and closing fast.

"Mate, c'mon!" the medic growled at him.

Wally looked up at Robert's body once more. A small tear ran down his face, but he quickly wiped it away. He had died a painful death, but at least he was free from all this now. His suffering and seeing his friends die was over, along with his part in this war.

Wally stood up and joined the medic as they rushed outside into the trench and fled through the right entrance with the last two British soldiers. Behind them, as they turned the corner leading back to the original German front line, the Germans turned into the trench that led into the one their enemies had just left and into it after them. An officer shouted in German, pointing to all the dugouts, ordering men to go search them. A few soldiers did so whilst others waited outside. The officer then shouted at them and he ran into the right entrance trench, his pistol waving, and the German soldiers waiting outside the dugouts in the trench followed him into battle as they gave chase to their enemies.


	29. Writing to a comrade's family

**Date: March 23****rd****, 1915**

**Location: British trench, west of Thiepval**

The air was silent, save for the pitter-patter of the rain as it fell from the white wool coloured clouds that hung in the sky above the trenches. The men, on both sides of the frontline, however, made no attempt to get under a place where they could wait out the rain. They stayed where they were, and this was for two reasons.

Firstly, the British and German soldiers had to hold their positions so as not to disobey their officers. Secondly, and more the reason why the men were remaining where they were, they were determined to kill each other. The failed offensive by the British had been a stroke of luck for the Germans but also for the British for they now knew that the German lines were going to be harder than their commanders thought to penetrate. However, if there was one thing that affected both sides in the offensive, it was the casualties. The British had lost over 1,000 dead and many thousands more wounded. German casualties were about the same but the failed offensive was a sort of insight that the two armies could face along the entire frontline could expect whenever a major attack to make a breakthrough was launched.

It was also a sign of the inexperience of the British commanders, who knew very little of the German trenches even from any spies that were sent in. The German trenches were better prepared and fit for defenders to drive off the attackers, and it was the misfortune that the British were the attackers and the defenders were the Germans.

Wally was sitting on the floor of the trench with his back to the wall that was next to No Man's Land, with his hair and uniform soaking wet from the rain, looking ahead at the opposite wall of the trench as if he were in a kind of trance. Along the trench were three other soldiers, one of who was looking out across No Man's Land with his rifle resting against the front of his shoulder. The other two were in the machine gun nest, also keeping an eye out for any movement from the German trenches across No Man's Land. There was no doubt that there were probably Germans looking back across the wasteland at them, waiting for an easy opportunity to fire on them.

Hans, who had his coast lifted over his head and shoulders to keep them dry, walked down the trench from the dugout over to Wally. He heaved a heavy sigh and knelt down beside his friend.

"C'mon, Wally," he said, like a parent telling their child to do something they did not want to do. "Come into the dugout,"

"No," Wally replied in a toneless voice, holding his gaze ahead of him.

Hans sighed again. Wally had been like this for the past two days since the end of the offensive. Like everyone else, he was stressed by the constant fighting that had taken place during the offensive and that it had all ended in disaster. At least, that was what Hans had thought.

In truth, Wally really, to be really honest, could have cared less if the offensive had failed. What he was stressed about was that he had lost a really good friend of his on the first day of the attack. Robert. A young soldier just like him had died a horrible death in a battle that resulted in a failure for the British. What had really gotten to Wally was that later on, on the first day of the offensive when the British forces in the German trenches had retreated back to their own lines, Wally had found a picture of Robert's family, made up of him, his mother, father and two sisters. The photo had been taken whilst Robert was in his military uniform so it must have been shortly before he left for the frontline. Seeing it had brought tears to Wally's eyes in knowing that one of his friends, who was one of the nicest people he had ever met, had been killed in an unprepared operation that resulted in failure, and the deaths of many hundreds of men on both sides.

"Wally, just please get up. You can't sit out here forever," Hans told him. He paused for a moment. "Look, I know you've really been affected by Robert's death but you have to move on," another pause. "You can't live in the past forever,"

"I know that!" Wally replied sharply, slightly startling Hans but he held his cool. Wally sighed and looked ahead. "I just can't get him out of my head. I mean; hasn't anyone sent a letter or anything home to his family?" he asked.

"Not that I know of. But from what I've heard, there's usually some kids who work in the army and they have to go around with messages, delivering 'em to families of those that have been killed."

Wally did not reply. Now he was lost in the depressing thoughts of Roberts' family's reactions when they had received one of these visits from one of these boys, which they most likely would have by now.

The rain began to get lighter, but only slightly. Wally sat where he was for another second before he got up and joined Hans as they walked back to the dugout. Wally walked over to his bed, his uniform dripping slightly from the rain. Moe was lying on his top bunk bed, reading his book again. Aiden (the soldier from Manchester) was cleaning the tip of his rifle with a dirty piece of cloth. Gomer was sitting on Adam's bed, having taken hold of it now until he returned. He smirked when he saw Wally enter.

"Y'know, it was actually quite peaceful in here until you came in soaking wet!" he commented as Hans sat down.

Wally really felt the urge to tell Gomer to shut up, but he held onto his nerves and ignored him. He walked over to his bed and sat down, taking off his coast and hanging it on a peg he had pushed into a hole in the wall a few weeks earlier. He then took off his boots, relieving the slight pain of them as they were new and a bit small for his feet, and, as he placed his rifle and boots underneath his bed, took out his backpack and lifted it onto his lap and took out a pen and a piece of paper and put his backpack back under his bed and began writing.

_Dear Robert's family and relatives, _he began.

Just in case no one in Robert's family had heard, he would send them a letter but he would out in his give his sympathy for his family for when, or if, they already were going through a tough time coming to terms with the death of a family member.

_I am fellow comrade of your son Robert out here on the front. I am, however, sadly writing to you to inform you that your son has been killed by enemy fire. It was a hard loss for everyone, especially for his squad members as we came to see him as a really nice person. I would like to give you and your family my own sympathy for your son's loss. And the others do as well as we'll give all our own opinions to your son._

_Yours faithfully, _

_Wallace Burtt, Hans Gibbs, Moe Harrison, Aiden Turner and_

Wally stopped writing and looked over at Gomer, who was brushing his hand over his coat to get rid of any dirt or dust that was on it. Should he include his name on the letter to Robert's family as well? Robert, like everyone else in the squad, never really got on with Gomer so why should he include his name. Then, he realised that Robert's family were to somehow find out that Gomer was the leader of the squad then they might start asking questions about why he had not been mentioned.

_Ah, may as well. _Wally thought. _But only so his family don't start asking questions. _

_Officer Gomer. _He finished the letter and folded it up.

"What's that piece of paper you've got in your hand?" Gomer's voice suddenly rattled in his ears, making him jump.

Wally looked over at his officer to see him marching over towards him. He stopped next to Wally's bed.

"What is that?" he asked again, a hint of demanding and anger clearly recognizable in his voice.

"It's a letter to Robert's family and relatives," Wally answered, not changing his tone to show any fear or anger. "I've signed it and I was going to give it to the others so sign as well."

Gomer chuckled and, before Wally could react, snatched the letter from his hand and opened it up and read the letter. To his surprise, he did not tear it up or laugh at Wally or anything. He just smiled and let out another smirk.

"Well, I think It's a good idea, Wallace," he said. He walked over to Hans and gave him the letter and handed him a pen of his own. Hans read the letter and, after looking suspiciously up at Gomer, wrote something on the bottom of it and handed the letter and pen back to him. Gomer then walked over to Moe and handed both the letter and the pen to him to do the same.

Wally watched him do this in surprise. He was at least expecting Gomer to laugh and/or comment on how much of a berk he had made himself look. The worst outcome was that Gomer would have torn up the letter and shouted at him, but no. He had done none of this. Why though? Why had he suddenly decided to hand out the letter to all other members of the squad, who loathed him as much as Wally did, and shake off any suspicious looks the others were giving him as he passed it around to them?

Eventually, Gomer had finished handing out the letter to the others and was writing something of his own on the letter. When he was done, he handed it back to Wally and walked over to his bed without another word.

Wally read the comments the others had given. Moe had put: _A real nice lad and someone who would have made a good friend back at home if I had known him. _That was nice. He read on, reading Hans' which said: _Someone who I'll miss dearly. You could never find a better friend and I extend my sympathy as well. _That was good too and Wally read Aiden's, which said: _He was a really good friend and I'll miss him. It's been tough here without him as the dugout feels emptier and I hope you get through this tough time alright. _That was really good. They all were. There was just one more to read now.

_A brave and fellow soldier who I was glad to have under my command. _Gomer's said as Wally read it. _Someone who put his duty to his King and country before his own safety and he was someone who was clearly able to fight and die knowing he had done his duty to his country and his fellow comrades. _

At this, Wally sighed and looked up at Gomer with an annoyed look. Gomer saw him and just smirked.

"I hope it means something to you, Wallace," he said as he put on his coat and walked towards the dugout entrance. "Maybe It'll help you get into the routine of what you actually have to do in this war," he added and with that, he walked out through the dugout entrance into the trench. Footsteps filled the air for a second before they died away.

"He is really getting on my nerves!" Wally said in an annoyed tone as he folded the letter back up.

"Just ignore him, Wally," Moe told him, sitting up and looking at his friend. "He's doing this so he can annoy you. Don't let him get to you 'cause that's what he wants,"

Wally went to reply but paused for a moment before he sighed and nodded. Moe was right. He should not let Gomer get to him, even if he was really starting to wind him up. He would just have to live with it, but he was just hoping that Adam would return soon because Gomer was really starting to push him to the point where he would flip, and he could probably say the same for the others in the squad.

Wally sighed again and reached under his backpack to take out an envelope for the letter to be put in.


	30. The first sign of love?

**Later that day**

Wally had picked the right time of the evening to go and see Eve when she was off duty. The sky was clear with a wonderful view of the stars, but a few clouds were gathering in the distance and were to soon cover the sky so they would have to enjoy the sight whilst it was still around. A gentle breeze blew over the two, who were sitting on the bench outside the hospital, talking.

"…I can't believe he would do something like that to you," Eve said to Wally.

"I know," Wally replied. "But we got him back in the end and we were laughing about for most of the night,"

"Tell me what happened,"

"Well…" Wally began. "We overheard him say he was going into Dover for a few drinks with some other officers so me, my brother Hal, our friend William and a few other soldiers called David and Tom got our boots on and waited until nightfall and we snuck out of the barracks into Dover and waited about half an hour for him to come out and when he did, on which he was almost staggering down the road, we jumped on him, threw him in the mud-" Eve began to giggle at this point. "-And then I pulled down his pants, took his cane and swung at his bottom-" now Eve was laughing, holding onto the top of the bench to stop herself from falling off. Wally was also trying not to laugh as he continued on with his story. "-And then…we ran off back to the barracks." He began to laugh along with Eve. "Oh, you should have been there, Eve. It was mean, I know, but we really wanted to get him back for his bad treatment of us."

"I don't blame you," Eve replied, taking a few deep breaths to calm down after laughing. "I would have done the same thing, especially if he deserved it that bad,"

Wally nodded in agreement and sighed as he relaxed against the back of the bench, placing his arms over the top and looked up at the stars.

"So, I take it Gomer hates you for doing that to him?" she inquired.

"Yeah," Wally replied, his voice dropping a little. "He takes whatever opportunity he can to annoy me because he knows I'm scared of combat. Like earlier today, he wrote a message on the bottom of a letter I was writing to Robert's family to wind me up, and I had written down his name on the letter even though Robert never got on with Gomer."

"Doesn't anyone get on with him?"

"Nope. Well, Adam did at first but when we transferred to the new trench further south of our old one he told me that he was getting to the point where he couldn't stand him. How he managed to befriend him in the first place, I have absolutely no idea,"

"Well, I think that's a mystery I really would like to solve," Eve commented.

Wally smirked a little and looked back up at the stars. Eve did the same. They were silent for a few moments, the only noises either being the gentle breeze in the air or the noise of voices shouting from the hospital building behind them.

"That reminds me," Wally said after a few moments. "How was Adam when you last saw him?" he asked Eve.

"He was not doing too bad," she replied. "He was starting to be able to walk again but I also heard that he was going on home leave so I don't know how long It'll be until he returns,"

"Oh," Wally said, feeling a little disappointed. Eve noticed it.

"What, are you worried about him?" she asked.

"Yeah," Wally answered. "I became friends with him when he told me that he was getting to the point of not being able to stand Gomer anymore. But as much as I hope he gets better, I hope he's away for a while."

"Why?"

"Because…because I…well, when the Germans attacked our trench a while ago, I fired at them. Well, not actually _at them _but it was…kind of at the ground in front of them. But Adam saw me and…"

"He got the impression you were firing at the Germans and killing them," Eve finished the sentence. Wally nodded. "Well, you'll have to admit to him sooner or later, Wally, that you weren't killing them. I mean, you can't hide it from him forever,"

"I know," Wally replied. "I'm just worried that he'll become friends with Gomer again, or worse he'll write to my father and tell him that I've been too scared to fight and kill the Germans." He sighed. "If my dad found out, he would kill me,"

"Wally, he would never do that," Eve comforted him, placing a hand on his shoulder and moving up the bench so he was sitting up close next to him. "He would be angry but he can't just throw you out of the house or say you're no longer his son. I mean, I would find it hard to take someone's life if I was a soldier at the front but there's no reason for him to do something like that."

Wally sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "Perhaps your right."

"Of course. I mean, you should do what you think is right and listen to your own conscience, not anyone else's,"

Wally nodded in agreement and smiled at Eve.

"Thanks, Eve," he said. "You know, I can really count on you for support." He moved his hand onto hers. "I'm really glad I'm friends with you,"

"Thanks,"

The two looked into each other's eyes. It was obvious that their friendship had developed more into a sort of…relationship. Their passionate of their feelings for each other was burning away inside of them. Wally did see Eve as physically attractive, but also because she was kind hearted and sweet and caring and she was doing what she thought was right for her country. Eve felt pretty much the same way about Wally, even though he did not look handsome because of life in the trenches but, then again, neither would she if she had spent ages in a trench, but she still liked him the way he was. He was gentle, kind and he was doing what he thought was right, but just not doing all of it because he just did not have it in him to kill another Human being, which she thought was quite good because she would never really be able to love someone who was killing other Humans.

A voice in Wally's head began speaking to him. It was telling him to do something he had never done to a girl before.

_Kiss her. _It said. _Go on, kiss her. You want to and she wants to as well._

He silently obeyed and began moving slowly towards Eve. To his surprise, she did not retreat but in fact moved towards him as well. Their eyes closed as they prepared to kiss each other.

THUD! Their eyes hot open and they turned to see an open back truck roll into the field towards the hospital. They could see a pile of wounded on the back with a few medical soldiers sitting around them. They watched as the truck came to a halt in front of the hospital and a few nurses ran out to help take them inside.

"_Evelyn!" _one of the nurses shouted in French at them. _"Venez et aider nous," Come and help us._

"_Je suis approche," (I'm coming) _Eve shouted back in French. She turned to Wally. "Sorry, I have to go help," she said.

"Don't worry, It's fine," he replied. "I have to get back anyway. Good luck and…take care of them,"

Eve smiled. "I will," and with that she got up and rushed over to the front of the hospital to help bring in the wounded soldiers.

Wally stood up and walked back in the direction of the trenches. In truth he was a little annoyed that a perfect moment with her, but then again she was doing her job, and besides he did have to get back before Gomer would return from some duty he did every evening.

_Hopefully, he won't arrive back at the dugout early. _Wally thought as he walked down a path that cut through the trees and led towards a field that was just behind the British frontline trenches.


	31. Taking new arrivals to the front

**Date: March 31****st****, 1915**

The bad weather was finally starting to lift from the Western Front, but the cold gentle breeze was still blowing as if it wanted to make a few last marks on the front before the weather turned warmer for the summer. The sky was mainly blue but there were still a few clouds around. Leaves were also beginning to sprout on the branches of the surrounding forests. Spring was finally settling in after months of the harsh and bitter cold of winter.

Far behind the frontline of the British trenches, in the lush green fields and small villages that had survived the bombardment by German guns, Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden were resting near a small lake that was a few hundred feet from a road that led towards the frontline. Nearby, just down the road, was a small village and to the northwest of the village was the hospital Eve was working at. Wally was glad they were behind the line for today. He thought about going to visit her earlier on but for now he wanted to rest after spending a long time in the trenches.

Hans let out a little grunt as he shifted and moved up so he was sitting in the Sun that was shining brightly onto the ground. He was dressed down to his tunic. Even though there was still a cold breeze in the air, it was starting to get quite warm on the front.

"This is the life for a resting soldier," he said. "Relaxing in the Sun and no fighting. It's great,"

"Don't get too excited about it," Moe, who was lying next to him with his head on his folded up coat, told him. "We'll be back in those miserable hell holes tomorrow,"

"Oh, I can't wait," Hans replied sarcastically.

"Well, we better make the most of it whilst we can," Wally, who was sitting next to the lake, said as he got up and walked over towards their coats and backpacks that were in either hanging on the near ground branches of a few nearby trees or were placed on the ground just underneath the branches. When he reached his backpack, he opened it and took out a few pieces small baguettes he had gotten earlier on when they were in the village.

"Anyone want one of these?" he offered.

They all agreed and he handed each of them a baguette before he sat down near the lake and broke off an end of the baguette and put it in his mouth. As he chewed, he looked out across the lake at the neighbouring forest on the other side, which was only just under forty metres away. He saw a few fish swimming about just under the surface of the water and he broke off a few bits of bread and threw them in, chuckling slightly as he watched the fish race to the surface to grab the pieces of bread or take bites from them and descend for a second or two before coming back for more.

"You know," Moe said with a mouthful of bread. "I nev'r rea'y fanshied forei'n food, but-" he swallowed. "-this French stuff. It's not bad."

"Nothing really seems to dampen your spirits much, Moe," Aiden commented.

"Yeah, well I'm quite a relaxed person. I never really let anything get to me,"

"I wish the same could be said for Wally," Hans whispered to them, nodding over towards their friend who was sat by the side of the lake, entranced by It's beauty and the delight of watching the fish come up to munch on the bits of bread he was throwing into the water.

"Hey, Wally?" Aiden called. Wally snapped out of his trance and turned to face him.

"What is it?"

"Hans and Moe told me a few days ago you've apparently found yourself a girl," he said. "Is it true?"

Wally did not reply at first, but he began to blush a little, which pretty much provided Aiden with his answer. Seeing this, he, Moe and Hans began to laugh. Wally, who had wanted to say 'maybe', sighed in defeat in realising that he could not hide the fact he was in love with Eve.

"Alright," he said, smiling a little. "I have. Her name's Eve and she works as a nurse at the hospital in that old manor house northwest of here,"

"How long have you been going out?" Aiden asked him.

"Since January, so almost three months," he answered.

Aiden went to ask something else when the sound of vehicle engines coming to a halt filled the air. The four looked over at the road to see a few open backed trucks come to a halt. In them were more young British soldiers, about fifteen in each and there were about five trucks. A total of seventy five new recruits had come to join the frontline, though the four knew very well that by the end of the week many of them would be wounded or dead.

An officer who looked about thirty five walked over from somewhere up the road and greeted the men. The four heard him talk and look around with a confused look on his face. Then, to their dismay, his eyes settled on them and he walked over towards them.

"Oh no!" Hans groaned. "Just when it was our day off from the front,"

"Soldiers!" the officer greeted them. "I'm glad I found you." He stopped a few feet from them. "I need you to help me lead these soldiers to the frontline,"

"Are you sure about that?" Moe asked him, looking past him at the young soldiers, many of who were looking at them. "I mean, it only takes one officer to lead a bunch of new recruits to the trenches,"

"Well, It's something that High Command has put in order." The officer replied. "Now c'mon, up you get."

Sighing, the four men got up and collected their bags and put their baguettes inside them and put their coats back on and slung their weapons over their shoulders and walked over to the group of new arrivals. The officer, now happy that they were helping, turned and walked back over to the new arrivals.

"Take one truck load of men each," he said to Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden when they reached the men.

The new arrivals sorted themselves into formation so they were three across and five down. At the front of each group were the five men leading it. The officer was leading the front group of new arrival, though instead of being at the front he was at the back of his group, then it was Wally, then Hans, then Aiden and ending the marching men was Moe.

"We ready?" the officer asked, looking behind him. Before anyone could answer, he turned his head back to look ahead and said: "Good, let's go!"

The men walked down the road in the direction of the frontline. As soon as they were marching down the road, conversation broke out amongst the new arrivals. Wally overheard them talking about the excitement they would experience on the frontline when they got there. He looked behind him, over the heads of most of the men behind him, and Hans engaged in conversation with the men he was leading.

"What's it like on the front, sir?" one of the men in Wally's group asked, snapping him back into reality.

"Sorry?"

"I said: what's it like on the front," the soldier repeated.

At these words, Wally felt the urge to tell them all about what a big mistake they were making coming here, about how seeing the daily barrages and men being killed left, right and centre happened from dawn until dusk. He looked at them at them, filled with sorrow, and was about to talk.

It was then he caught the glare of the officer standing in front of him. Even though he was not saying anything, it was plainly obvious to Wally that the officer wanted him to keep his mouth shut about the horrors of the frontline. He looked away from the officer and back at the men behind him, who were patiently waiting for him to answer, completely oblivious to the look the soldier leading them had just received from the leading officer.

"It's…uh," Wally began. He paused for a second before nodding, forcing himself to put an 'It's okay' look on his face. "It's…It's good," he said. "It's really worth the experience,"

The men smiled and began to talk among themselves. Wally looked back up at the officer and saw he was impressed that Wally had kept his mouth shut and turned his head to look forward again.

Wally sighed. He had just lied, but it was not his fault. He had been forced to lie, but still he had done so. And the horrible, most sickening part of it was that he had been forced to lie about something that was definitely not true. The frontline was not 'good' or even 'worth the experience'. It was the exact opposite: terrible and a complete waste of life for both Britain and Germany, fighting for a land which they knew neither side could take.

After about another twenty minutes, in which by the end Wally was happy that none of the men he was leading had asked him anything more about the frontline, they reached the rear trenches. The men thanked Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden and followed the officer, who had been joined by several other officers, into the trench system. When they were gone, the four exchanged worried glances, the fake happiness and joy instantly removed from their minds. They knew very well that these men would regret coming here by the end of the day, or probably even _before_ the end of the day. They also thought, though it was kept at the back of their heads, that many of these men would be dead within the next few weeks.

Hopefully, it would not come to that.


	32. April Fools

**The next day**

**April 1****st****, 1915**

With March over, April had begun and today it was a well-known day, for today was April Fool's Day. Usually today, there would be tricks and laughs across Europe and other countries that new of the day. Even in the frontline, there were laughs being made from tricks soldiers played upon their comrades, who took in the jokes and laughed along with those who pulled the joke. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood.

Well, that was everyone apart from Wally, Moe, Aiden and Hans. They were fine when they had woken up and it looked as though their morning was going to be peaceful. That it until Gomer had insulted Wally again for his cowardice of fighting on the front line and when Hans and Moe tried to defend him, Gomer just laughed and called them 'fools' and 'berks' for trying to defend Wally who he saw was a coward. He even insulted Aiden, who was not even part of the argument and left laughing when Aiden had risen and tried to hit him but was restrained, though only just, by Moe.

Since then, the four had been left in a bad mood. They, apart from Moe who had to help a medic take a wounded soldier out of the trench after he had suffered a gunshot wound, had eaten their breakfast in silence and the annoyed looks on their faces seemed to have deterred their fellow comrades for trying to pull any jokes on them in case they annoyed them even more. At the moment, they were now either in the dugout or keeping watch over No Man's Land.

Wally had been particularly annoyed by this morning's event because Gomer had made him feel like he was the centre of the argument. He had first started it all against him and it quickly grew out of control and almost got the others into trouble, and it was all because Wally was too scared to fight on the frontline. But that was not his fault! He just did not have it in him to kill another Human being, even if he was on the opposing German army in the middle of a war. Nevertheless, he was still really annoyed by what Gomer had said, and he just really wanted to get him back.

"Oh goddie!" Wally, who was looking out across No Man's Land, heard Hans' voice erupt from the dugout behind him.

He turned to see him emerge, holding a small wooden bird that had been painted blue along It's top and orange on It's bottom with a dark blue tail. There were dark patches around the eyes and a small tiny line of yellow was coming out of the top of the dark patch around the eye and carried on a little across the side of the face, coming to a halt near the bird's ear. Were it for the bird's eyes not blinking and It's head not turning around like a normal bird would, it would look as though Hans had just caught a live bird.

"It's annoying the way my father's remembered to start sending me these things again," he said, looking down at the wooden bird in his hand.

"It looks good," Wally commented. "I could never do anything like that. Is your father a bird watcher?" he asked.

"Yep," Hans replied. "It is good, I'll admit that but he keeps going on about it and he used to give me a lot of these when he had been bird watching and he had carved whatever he had seen. It was good at first, but now-"

"It's annoying," Wally finished the sentence to which Hans nodded at.

Wally looked back out across No Man's Land. Hans went to walk past him but stopped and looked up the trench.

"Oh, looks who's up the trench," he grumbled in an annoyed tone.

Wally heard him and looked at where he was talking about. He sighed in annoyance as well. Further up a trench, Wally and Hans saw Gomer with another officer. He looked down the trench at them, muttered something to the officer and they chuckled.

Wally felt anger rise through him. It was obvious that Gomer was taking the micky out of him and Hans, probably about the fiasco they had almost started this morning. He really felt the urge to go up there and give him a piece of his mind. However, he quickly realised that Hans was feeling the same way for Wally noticed him clutching his wooden carved bird tightly, his teeth clenched and his hands shaking.

"I take it your angry at him as well," Wally said to him.

"What gave you that idea," Hans asked sarcastically.

The two, however, were not alone. Wally, suddenly, felt a hand rest on his shoulder, making him jump.

"Sorry about that,"

It was Moe, though he too had an angry look on his face. It was obvious he was annoyed because Gomer was most likely taking the micky out of them right in front of them.

"I hate him so much!" Hans whispered under his breath.

Wally nodded. Well, he did not hate Gomer but he really did not like him. He was way past the point of them ever making up. He just really wanted to get back at him, but how?

"Well," Moe said, sighing. "I'm going to get some bully beef,"

"Okay," Wally and Hans said in unison, not taking their gaze off of Gomer ahead of them.

Wait! Wally suddenly realised something. Bully beef was a brown colour…and? He looked down at the wooden bird in Hans' hand. An idea began to form in his head. What if…?

He smiled at himself. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Wait here a second," Wally said to Moe, who had just about entered the dugout, and Hans. Moe moved out of the way as Wally disappeared into the dugout for a second. The two heard something clatter and Wally reappeared a moment later, carrying a tin of bully beef and a spoon in his hand.

"What 'ave you got them for?" Moe asked him.

"Watch," Wally replied. "Hans get ready to throw your bird in the air towards Gomer."

Hans gave him a confused look but nodded and raised his hand with the wooden bird. Wally, scooped out a spoonful of bully beef and raised the spoon, bringing it back slightly and took aim.

"Okay, now throw it," he said to Hans, who nodded and threw the wooden bird into the air so it was flying ahead and would pass over Gomer. At the same time, Wally threw the bully beef on the spoon towards Gomer, though slightly higher so it would land on his head, but look like it was coming from above rather than from in front of him.

Gomer, who was facing No Man's Land, talking to the officer, saw something out of the corner of his eye pass overhead. He looked up just in time to see a ball of brown coming towards him.

SPLAT!

"AAAAHHHHH!" Gomer yelled out, falling backwards onto the trench floor. He tried to wipe the beef off him but the surprise of this happening to him caused one of his arms to only wipe the dirt across his face even more.

The officer Gomer was talking to helped him up but did not help wipe the bully beef, or to them bird dropping, off his face.

Further down the trench, Wally, Hans and Moe rushed into the dugout and burst out laughing. Moe was holding onto one of the bunk beds for support. Hans was holding his stomach, leaning against the wall of the dugout. Wally was sitting on his bed, pounding it with his fists as he laughed.

"Oh…that…was…funny," Hans choked as he took several breaths to calm down.

"Yeah…i…it was," Wally replied, also calming down a bit now.

"I can't believe it actually worked," Moe said. "I thought you would miss and end up getting done,"

"Well, we must have had luck on our side," Hans told him.

"Well, I must say the words 'April Fools'," Wally piped up, making the three burst out laughing again.

Outside in the trench, several other soldiers were laughing and pointing at Gomer, so were a few officers, as he walked away to wash the bird's 'dropping' off his face.


	33. A little poem

**Date: April 5****th**

The April Fools trick Wally, Hans and Moe had played on Gomer earlier that week had been the centre of talk for the rest of that day and the second day after until the soldiers and officers decided it was best to move on from what had happened and continue with the terrible life on the Western Front. The three had hoped that Gomer would not find out about what they had done to him on April Fools day but, unfortunately, luck did not seem to be on their side. Gomer found out the next day, overhearing a soldier talk about the trick to his friends. He was furious and had ordered the group to stay on sentry duty for that night and much of the following day until he felt satisfied in getting back at them and let them down to get some rest. They quickly found out what the whole point of them staying up had been and they were furious but could do nothing. They just had to get on with it.

By today, it had quite literally been put out of their mind, mainly because-

BOOM! BOOM! -of shelling. The Germans had begun firing a barrage a few moments earlier, obviously known now for the start of an attack. The men in the British trench had pushed themselves against the wall of the trench facing No Man's Land, covering their ears with their hands to block out the noise of the shells bursting nearby. Several men had already fallen because of shrapnel but, for some reason, today the German shells were quite accurate and were preventing any medical personal from getting to the dead men.

Wally, who was against the trench wall in front of the small square shaped hole, groaned a little as he tried to push himself further against the wall of the trench as if he were trying to become a part of it. Behind him were Hans, then Moe and then Aiden. BOOM! Another shell exploded on the mud ground above the trench wall opposite them. A cloud of dirt flew into the air, only to rain down on the men in the nearby trench.

_Oh God! _Wally said mentally to himself, shifting himself to put his arm that had the hand over his ear under his chest. _I hope this barrage stops soon._

By the looks of it, he was not the only one hoping for the barrage to end. Aiden groaned a little louder and he lowered his head and put his other hand over his other ear. The noise of the shelling to him was coming at him from all directions. He just wanted it to stop. _Please God! Make it stop, please!_

Then, as if granting Aiden's wish, the barrage suddenly lifted. The men held their positions for a second, as if they were expecting another barrage to suddenly crash down onto them, before they rose and aimed their rifles out across No Man's Land, waiting for the imminent attack by the Germans.

Then, moments later….

"Here comes Jerry!"

Far out across No man's Land, a mass of figures suddenly seemed to rise up out of the ground and charged towards the British trenches. Every gun along the trench opened fire. Wally, however, kept his finger on the trigger, not wanting to fire yet in case he _did_ actually hit and kill a German. He watched as many of the German soldiers fell to the ground to join the never ending amount of dead bodies that seemed to fill No Man's Land. A few of their enemies returned fire but the trench gave the British troops some cover so it was pointless unless they were throwing grenades, and they were the ones that everybody seemed to fire on to prevent them from doing so. Even the machine gun nest further down the trench was blazing away at the Germans, wiping out scores of them with a single burst.

When they were about twenty feet away, Wally did open fire, continually saying the same thing in his mind: _Hit near them, not on them! _He even muttered that under his breath as he fired away at the ground in front of the Germans. He was silently praying that they would go and then he could stop firing at them, wiping out the fear of hitting a German for at least another day, or a few days if he was lucky.

Then, just as Wally was about to fire another shot from his rifle, he felt his weapon…rise all of a sudden. He quickly noticed it but before he could stop himself, he fired another shot. A scream erupted from No Man's Land as a German fell to the ground, clutching his knee in pain. Wally's bullet had gone into him.

"What the…?" Wally half exclaimed before he noticed someone was standing next to him. He looked and saw who it was.

Gomer. He gave a little chuckle and walked on past Wally back towards the dugout. Wally's eyes followed him, filled with shock. He…had just hurt someone. B-but it was not his fault, it was Gomer's. He had raised his rifle…but Wally had fired the shot, but unintentionally, but also intentionally. Either way, he still fired that shot. Wally looked out across No Man's Land and breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the German he had injured was picked up by one of his comrades, a tall and tough looking German soldier, and rushed back towards the German trenches.

"Thank God," Wally muttered under his breath.

Behind the German he had seen rescuing his wounded comrade was the rest of the German attack force, now numbering about forty. As usual in the retreats, some would half turn and fire at the British trenches whilst others just ran on, some of them even jumping into any nearby shellholes and disappearing for a second before appearing again and running on towards the German trenches. The British soldiers fired away at them still, several more of the German soldiers falling before they all reached their trenches and disappeared from view.

"Are we going to attack, sir?" a soldier up the trench near the machine gun nest asked an officer a few feet to the soldier's right.

"No, don't bother. Hold yer' ground," the officer shouted.

Wally breathed another sigh of relief and retreated back towards the dugout. He was happy that they were not going over the top to attack the German trenches again, but he was angry as well. Gomer had made him hurt someone. Well, he had had enough and he was going to give Gomer a piece of his mind.

Suddenly, just as Wally had reached the dugout entrance, Gomer shot out of the dugout and, before Wally could stop him, walked down the trench and turned right into another section of trench that led to the rear trenches. As he rounded the corner, although Wally was not sure, but he could have sworn that he saw a smile on Gomer's face. If he had just left the dugout in a hurry and was smiling, then it was obvious he had done something. What it was, Wally did not know but he had a feeling it was something to do with him and that it was going to become clear to him as soon as he walked into the dugout.

Wally bent low and walked into the dugout, preparing himself for whatever Gomer had ready to him. He looked around and saw on his bed a piece of paper that looked no bigger than his hand. He was certain that was not there when he left the dugout earlier on so it was obvious this was what Gomer had left him. Sheepishly, as if expecting something to happen, he walked over to the piece of paper, seeing that it had writing on it as he got closer, and picked it up.

_There was a serving soldier that was proving to be a berk_

_And he went by the name of Wallace Burtt_.

_He acted like a useless piece of cattle_

_As every time his commanders had to force him into battle._

Anger rose up through Wally, so much that he began to shake and he creased the piece of paper in his hand slightly. Gomer had written a poem about him…to wind him up! The bad thing was that it had worked! Now he angrier than ever at Gomer. Oh, he longed to give him a piece of his mind.

Wally took several breaths to calm down and quickly tore the piece of paper in two and then into quarters and then into eights before walking back outside to dispose of them.

Gomer was taking up new steps to wind him up. Sooner or later, he would eventually overstep them mark. Although Wally was not really one for violence, he knew that if Gomer kept this up he would end up throttling him. Hopefully, though, it would not come to that.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to Joe Armstrong (1895-1997) who, in an interview, said of a poem that was given to his friend, Thompson, by an officer for eating his emergency rations. Here if the poem:**

****_**This place marks the spot**_

_**Where many a young soldier lost his tot**_

_**It was poured out in damn dirty fashion**_

_**Because he had eaten his emergency rations.**_

**After reciting the poem to the interviewer, Joe then added that Thompson, after finding and reading the poem pinned to his little dugout, went crackers. **


	34. Saving an adversary

**Two days later**

For the first time since the start of the year, the sky was mostly blue with the Sun shining down onto the frontline, giving the first signs that spring was coming into full flow. There was still a slight breeze but it was not as bad as it had been in previous weeks as it was a lot calmer. Still, however, the men on the frontline could not enjoy this sudden break in the weather. They were still being forced to fight in this war, but it was amazing as well to see that so many agreed to continue fighting because it had, in a way, become a part of their lives, surviving on a daily basis and wondering if you would wake up one morning and live to see that day's night, especially if they had been there for a long time.

In the trench, Wally and Aiden were up against the trench wall, looking out over the parapet across No Man's Land. Wally had a periscope in his hand and was looking across the wasteland at the German trenches. He saw a few helmet tops moving about on the other side of No Man's Land but nothing was happening. Aiden was looking through a pair of binoculars at the German trenches.

"See anything, Wally?" Aiden asked him as he looked at his friend from his binoculars.

"Just a few Germans moving but nothing else," he replied, not looking away from his periscope as he turned to his left a little.

A shot sounded from further down the trench to Wally's right and another, though much fainter, sounded from across No Man's Land from the German trenches. Quiet descended again for a few seconds before another shot sounded from down the trench again and a voice shouted: "Haha! I got the bastard," obviously signalling another German soldier had just been killed.

"Uh oh," Aiden said, looking up the trench. "Eyes up, here comes Gofer,"

Wally groaned and looked up the trench to see Gomer walking down the trench towards him and Aiden holding his cane behind him.

"Great!" Wally muttered, loud enough just for Aiden to hear. "Just when I thought for once that looking out across No Man's Land was good,"

he looked back through his periscope, hoping that Gomer did not notice him talking to Aiden, but also readying himself for whatever Gomer was going to do to him. He was just ten feet away. Now _Six…Five…four. _Wally readied himself in case Gomer decided to hit him with his cane, but he had a little surprise of his own to give to Gomer.

Then, just as Gomer was behind him, Wally shot round and gave him a stern look. The reaction from Gomer shocked him. Instead of laughing or giving him a stern look back, he appeared to have been quite shocked and he stepped back a pace from Wally as if he were afraid.

"What?" Gomer asked him, a hint of fear in his voice, which shocked Wally even more and made him drop his stern look.

"I was just making sure you weren't going to hit me or anything," he replied.

"Well I wasn't," Gomer replied. "I was just going back to the dugout."

And with that, Gomer walked on down the trench and walked into the dugout. Wally looked at Aiden, who was just as equally shocked. Wow! Gomer was only walking _past_ him and had no intention of annoying Wally. Okay, this was either a change that had come over Gomer or he was imaging it. Or maybe he was trying to trick him. Yes, that was what he was doing!

"I get what he's doing," Wally said to himself as he looked back at the dugout.

"What?" Aiden asked him.

"He's trying to trick me," Wally replied.

"Are you sure that's what he was doing?"

"Oh, come on, Aiden! Gomer's been a real bully to me since he arrived here and hurt me at any opportunity he could get and now all of a sudden he's decided not to hurt me when he had a perfect opportunity. Well, I'm going to find out what it was he was trying to do,"

Wally placed the periscope on the dirt ground that led to No Man's Land and walked over to the dugout and entered it. Sitting on his bed was Gomer, but he did not even look up at Wally when he entered. In fact, he was staring ahead with a scared look on his face. At seeing this, a voice inside Wally's head told him that maybe Gomer _was_ _not_ going to hurt him. Still, though, he kept his guard up just in case Gomer did decide to hurt him.

Wally walked over to Gomer and knelt down in front of him. It was amazing to see that his eyes did not even look at him, they just staring ahead as if he were in a kind of trance.

"Alright," Wally said. "What was with you outside?" he asked in a voice that sounded like he wanted the truth and not any lies.

This time Gomer did look at him. "What?"

"I said: what was with you outside?" Wally repeated. "Why didn't you hit me like you usually do? And don't try and fool me, just tell me the truth!"

Gomer sighed. "If you must know, Wallace." He said and sighed again. "You and I have been ordered onto a scouting mission with a few other men."

"Oh," Wally took in what Gomer was saying. Another scout attack, and another chance for death to try and take him. Well-wait a minute. Gomer sounded…a bit scared when he said he and Wally were going on a scout mission. Could that mean?

"Alright," an officer's voice from outside the dugout announced. "That's two of you. Where are those two other scouting men that were meant to be taking part in this attack?"

Gomer sighed and stood up and, without another backward glance at Wally, walked out of the dugout. Wally stood up and walked over to his bed, knelt down and picked up his rifle from underneath it. He quickly checked to make sure it was loaded and walked out of the dugout. A short and quite large officer with a grey moustache was waiting for him. With him were Gomer, who was looking hopelessly out across No Man's Land, and Moe and Hans.

"Ah good, you all here!" the officer said in a happy voice. "Right, let's get this attack underway,"

He walked off up the trench and shouted to a few nearby soldiers to come down and provide covering fire. Whilst Wally was alone with Hans and Moe, he began explaining to them about Gomer when he told him about the attack they were to go on.

"Wow!" Hans whispered, looking over at Gomer. "And all this time, I thought he acted like he wasn't scared,"

"That's probably 'cause he's never been out into No Man's Land before," Moe replied. He gave a scoff and shook his head. "The berk. Always acting like he was an' 'ardnut and yet he hasn't got the guts to admit he's scared being here on the front as well."

"Right, men," the officer announced, ending their conversation, as he walked up to them. "Get ready. You too, officer Gomer,"

Gomer only nodded and stepped forward to the trench wall that was facing No Man's Land. He took a deep breath to keep himself calm, but his heart was beating like mad against his chest. The others were right about him never being in No Man's Land before, and he was a scared as ever. Many hundreds of men had already been killed out here, both British and German soldiers and a four man patrol was going to be an easy target for any Germans lying in wait for them in their trenches on the other side of the wasteland.

Four other soldiers lined up along the trench alongside Aiden and raised their rifles, aiming out across No Man's Land. The officer looked at his pocket watch and saw it was time.

WHOOSH! BOOM! WHOOSH! BOOM! Two mortars flew overhead and exploded at the German trenches across No Man's Land. A few shouts echoed from across the wasteland, indicating there had been some unfortunate German soldiers who had been hit.

"Alright, over you go!"

Wally, Gomer, Hans and Moe climbed over the trench wall and across the dirt into No Man's Land. Scattered around them were shell holes, both small and large, showing them what life No Man's Land went through every day with the constant shelling and mortaring from both sides. Within some of these shell holes, they could just about see the skeletal remains of some soldiers who had long since perished in No Man's Land from past attacks and were now to be buried under the endless torrent of mud. Wally grimaced and looked away, and saw Gomer doing the same. Obviously this was affecting him as well.

"Watch out!" Hans shouted all of a sudden.

He and Moe dived into a shell hole. Wally went to join them, but the ground at his feet was suddenly lifting up as bullets flew in all directions. Running faster than he had ever done before, he ran into another nearby shell hole and dived into it. As he sat up and rested his back against the side of the shell hole, he quickly saw that he was not alone in occupying this hiding place.

Gomer was lying on his side, facing Wally, against the shell hole with his hands over his ears, his eyes shut tightly and he was mumbling something in a panicked and scared voice akin to that of a scared little child.

"Please make it stop!" he mumbled. "Please!"

"Gomer!" Wally said, moving over to him and moving his hand off his ear. Gomer gasped and looked up at Wally.

"Wallace!" he said. "You're alive!"

"Not for long," Wally replied.

He raised himself onto his knees and quickly stuck his head over the edge of the shell hole to see if he could spot Hans and/or Moe. He saw them in another shell hole about twenty feet away. Then, the sounds of bullets zipping over his head made him lower down into the shell hole.

"Okay, Hans and Moe aren't that far away," he said to Gomer. "If we can get to them, we do whatever it is we need to do and then get back to the trench,"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Suddenly, explosions erupted all over No Man's Land. Wally ducked low to prevent being hit by shrapnel. Gomer let out a cry and launched himself against the side of the shell hole, his hand over his ears again.

"Gomer, c'mon," Wally said as he crawled over to him. "We need to go,"

"Oh, just leave me here to die!" Gomer cried. "Just leave me, I don't want to go back out there!"

"You can't just stay here, you idiot!" Wally told him. Another explosion erupted close by quite behind him, followed by another that was just five feet from the hole. Wally began to panic. The shells were getting more accurate, and pretty soon they would be landing right on top of them.

"Gomer, we need to go now!" Wally shouted to him as more shells began to crash nearby. "If we go now, we'll make it!"

Gomer looked up at him with fear, but also a glint of hope in his eyes. T-they could make it still. Yes! There was still a chance for them to get out of here alive.

Gomer crawled up to the side of the trench and stopped next to Wally, who looked up over the side of the shell hole again for another look at where Hans and Moe were taking cover. He saw Moe's head quickly pop up from their shell hole to look at the German trenches before he ducked back down into the safety of the hole. Wally did the same, narrowly avoiding the bullets that zipped over where his head just milliseconds earlier.

"Alright, they're not that far away, about twenty or so feet," he said to Gomer. "We shoul-GOMER WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"

Gomer had taken off running across No Man's Land towards Moe and Hans' shell hole. Almost instantly, the ground around his feet was torn up by bullets as the Germans fired on him. Wally sighed and, seeing no point in staying in the shell hole, ran out into No Man's Land towards the safety of his friends' shell hole. Like when Gomer was running, the ground was torn up by the German soldiers as they fired on Wally to kill him. Gomer dived into the shell hole. Wally ran faster to try and get to the hole, but the bullets were getting closer to his feet! He could get hit! No, he could, and would get to the shell hole! Just another ten feet. _Six feet…five...four…three, almost there_!

Diving the last few feet, Wally reached the shell hole, tumbling down the side to the bottom. Moe helped him up.

"You alright?" he asked.

Wally nodded. "Okay, what do we do now?"

"Try and spot any build-up of German guns that might be near the line," Hans answered.

"Problem is; how?" Moe asked. "With their guns concentrated at this shell hole, we'll be dead before we've even lifted a finger,"

BOOM! BOOM! Suddenly, more explosions erupted across No Man's Land, only this time, they were gradually getting closer to the German trenches. One, after a few seconds of the first two explosions, finally did land on the German lines, killing about ten German soldiers and throwing many to the trench's floor.

Seeing their chance, Moe looked up and scanned the frontline in front of him. He could see a few large bulks about several hundred feet or so away behind the German line's rear trenches. Artillery pieces, about six of them. They were quite small but were near enough to fire on the British trenches, let alone No Man's Land. Moe then looked at the trenches themselves and saw several pits that looked like they could hold mortars.

"That's it!" he shouted to his friends. "They've got about…one, two…four mortar pits and-"

Hans suddenly grabbed Moe and pulled him back into the shell hole, making him land painfully on his back.

"What the hell did you do that for, Hans?" Moe shouted at him.

"I saw a German soldier about to shoot ya," he replied. "You can thank me later,"

"Okay, we've done what we needed to do," Gomer piped up from his curled up position at the other end of the shell hole nearest the British front line. "Now can we please try and get back to the front line?"

"We just need to wait for our guns to start firing again!" Moe told him, the British guns having brought a halt to their barrage. "Once they do, we'll leg it back to the trenches," 

No sooner than Moe stopped speaking when more explosions erupted across No Man's Land. However, this time, although there were shells landing around the German trenches, there were also shells landing across No Man's Land. If that was happening then it could only mean one thing: Both sides were firing their artillery.

"Oh great!" Wally said as he lowered down from the side of the shell hole. "The German guns are firing as well,"

"At least ours are keeping 'em down," Hans said. "Right, let' ge-where' Gomer?"

Wally looked around the shell hole and saw he was gone.

_If he's not here… _Wally mentally said to himself.

Wally looked up over the side of the shell hole and saw a man running across No Man's Land. Gomer!

"The idiot!" Moe shouted. "He's gonna get himself killed!"

"Let's just go before _we_ get killed!" Hans shouted at him and with that, he ran out of the shell hole; Moe and Wally hot on his heels.

Whether it was because he was naturally fast or because he was trying to avoid being killed neither Wally, Hans or Moe could tell but Gomer was already over half-way across No Man's Land from the British trenches. Hope filled him. He was almost there! He was almost there!

_I'm going to make it! _He kept mentally saying in his mind. _I'm going to make I-"_

BOOM! A shell exploded about four feet behind him. Gomer let out a yell and fell to the ground, clutching his leg in pain. Blood poured from a few small wounds up and down his leg. Shrapnel must have cut deep into them. More shells burst all around him.

Wally saw Gomer fell to the ground. "He's been hit!" he shouted to Hans and Moe, who were staying about twenty feet from each other and Wally to avoid being hit at once by one shell.

"We'll have to leave 'im," Hans shouted back. "Can't save 'im, shelling's too hard."

Wally could not believe what he had just heard. They were going to leave him? No! No, _they _were, but _he_ could not just leave him. Okay, maybe Gomer really hated Wally and hurt at any opportunity he got and picked on him all the time…but, he still deserved to live" He still deserved to be taken away to safety. Moe and Hans were not going to do anything about him, so that left Wally. What was he to do?

Wally ran over to Gomer and skidded to a halt next to him.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Gomer growled at him, clutching his leg tighter as the pain flared up and down his calf and upper leg.

"Saving your life," Wally replied as he grabbed Gomer.

"No!" Gomer tried to push him off but it was no use. With his injured leg, it would only hurt more is he tried to do anything about Wally trying to save him. "Just leave me here!"

Wally ignored him and lifted him up and placed him over his shoulders and staggered back towards the British frontline trench as fast as he could, praying they would not be hit by more shells. Although they exploded quite close to them, they were not hit.

Finally, after a few mad heart beating moments, Wally reached the trench and lowered Gomer down to two of the soldiers that were to provide covering fire and jumped into the trench. The two soldiers carried the wounded officer towards a section of trench that led to the rear trenches. They rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

"Why did you save him?" Aiden, who was standing next to him, asked. "I thought you hated him? And besides, he would have been better off without him?"

"It may be up to fate to choose when he dies, Aiden," Wally replied. "But he's still an innocent soldier, even if he an officer that I don't like," and with that, Wally walked off back towards the dugout to get some rest.


	35. Getting a new officer

**Date: April 19****th**

The good weather was appearing like it was going to last for a while. It was another sunny day with a gentle breeze and it was even a little hot. It was forecast like this for much of the frontline, though even this was not enough to deter the two sides from their duties on the frontline. Already, there were many attacks that had gone, or we going on up and down the frontline, and many more were going to come before the end of the day.

At the Somme sector near Thiepval, Wally was lying on his bed, reading his _Oliver Twist _book, which he was about half-way through now. Moe was resting his eyes, having been up on sentry duty for most of last night. Hans was sitting at the table in the middle of the room, playing cards with Aiden. He was losing.

"Oh bloody Hell," Hans hissed, slamming his cards back onto the table. "I give up,"

"Oh come on, Hans, you're improving," Aiden reassured him. "I'm sure you'll win the next game,"

"Yes, and that's what you said to me about _two_ games ago," Hans replied.

"Oh, will you two be quiet!" Moe moaned from his bunk bed. "I'm trying to get some bloody sleep!"

"Sorry, grandfather," Aiden whispered, making him, Hans and Wally, who had overhead him, smirk. Unfortunately, Moe had overheard him as well.

"Hey, you ain't the one who's had stay up on sentry duty for 'alf the night," Moe said.

"Well, I'm, sorry but there are other people in this dugout besides than you," Hans told him.

Moe was about to reply but his voice was stopped by the wound of someone marching up the trench, their boots making loud thumping noises as they hit the wooden floorboards of the trench floor. Wally looked up from his book at the dugout entrance with the others as if they were expecting someone to enter the dugout. A voice came from outside, though it had more of an accent to it rather than sounding normal English.

"Roger that, sir," the voice said. "Right, where's that regiment I've been assigned to?"

A head poked through the dugout entrance and looked at the men.

"G'day," he said. That explained the accent he had. "I'm looking for an un-officered regiment, last in charge of some guy called Gomer,"

"That's us," Hans told him.

"Ah, goody," the man said and he stepped into the dugout. He was quite short, about Wally's height, maybe a tiny little bit taller, with hazel eyes, brown hair and he had a small beard growing on his chin. However, he did remind the group of Gomer. Even though he was quite short, his body was quite heavily built and even though he looked cheerful, there was a faint glint about him that told the group he was quite stern and could be very if annoyed. He had a Lee Enfield .303 rifle slung over his shoulder and was wearing a large backpack.

Wally could not help but feel a bit nervous about this new man in their squad. What if he was like Gomer? What if he was stern and aggressive all the time and acted like he owned them? Hopefully, it would not turn out to that.

"Please to meet you all," he said, walking over to what had been Gomer's bed and setting his backpack and his rifle down upon them before walking over to Hans and Aiden, raising his hand.  
"Name's Stanley," he said.

"Hans," Hans shook his hand.

"Aiden," Aiden did the same.

"And you two?" Stanley asked Moe and Wally, looking at them.

"M-moe," Moe said, trying to stifle a yawn before lying back down on his bed.

"Wallace, or Wally for short," Wally said, shaking Stanley's hand when he walked over to him.

Stanley walked over to his backpack, picked it up and set it down on the table.

"So, what happened to your last officer?" he asked them.

"Gomer got hit in the leg by shrapnel during a scouting mission no too long ago," Wally told him. "Legged it when he saw an opportunity,"

"Dear, dear," Stanley commented. "I bet you lot were a bit shocked by that,"

"Actually, no," Hans said. "I mean, yeah we were a bit shocked when he decided to leg it across No Man's Land as it was being blasted to smithereens by shells, but, between you and us, we couldn't be glad to get rid of him,"

"Why, was he a berk?"

"Yep, and a big one. Wound up all of us every opportunity he got and he pissed off Wally more than a few times than when we got our fair share of him annoying us."

"Why'd he do that?" Stanley asked Wally, looking at him.

"Well…" Wally began, sitting up and closing his book. "He hated me because he used to train me and my brother back in Dover and when I ended up knocking him over during rifle training because he had hit on the head with his cane, and also humiliating, according to him, in front of an officer that was watching, he's been getting me back ever since. Taking the mick out of me because I…" he paused.

"Because of what?" Stanley asked him.

"Because…" Wally continued. "Because I can't find it within me to kill someone. I haven't even killed one German since I arrived in France in December."

"Well," Stanley said as he opened his backpack and began searching through it. "We all got things we can an' can't do and people are just gonna have to accept that. Unfortunately, Gomer didn't see it that way. I bet he called you a coward,"

Wally nodded. "A few times. He probably even began talking about me to the other officers here as well."

Stanley nodded in agreement and looked into his bag, searching through it for a few more seconds before he said. "Ah, found 'em," and he pulled out a small circular shape, about the size of his face, that was a dark yellow colour with a white surface.

"Bought a couple o' bits of Brie in a small village a couple o' miles back behind the line," he said as he took out another brie wheel and set them down on the table. He then reached into his bag again and took out a few small baguettes and set them down on the table as well.

"Fresh food," Hans said, impressed. "Surprised you managed to grab 'em. I though they shelled the nearest village a few days ago."

"That they did, mate," Stanley replied. "But I met the French woman who owned the shop where I got this lot and she told me the Jerries'll have to do better than that to kick 'em out of the village."

Aiden chuckled. "Tough people, eh,"

"Yeah," Stanley nodded. "Tough people."

He pulled up another wooden box and sat down at the table and offered the baguettes and brie to the other two, which they took and began to pull apart to eat.

"You want any of this, Wally?" Stanley offered.

"No, thanks," he replied.

Stanley pulled off a piece of one of the small baguettes and ate it. As he chewed, watching Aiden and Hans make their own little sandwiches out of the baguettes and the brie, Wally asked Stanley:

"So what brought you out here?"

Stanley looked at him and swallowed.

"Well," he began. "I came over to Blighty when I was about twenty, so that's five years ago, and began to work on the docks in London. When this war broke out, I was like half the bleeding country. I signed up within the first few hours of war being declared. After training, I was sent to Loos just south of Ypres and then I got transferred down 'ere about a month ago after I got wounded by a shot to me' stomach," he lifted his tunic to reveal a small scar over the side of his stomach where a little dent was just about visible.

"Wow," Hans said. "I bet that hurt that Hell,"

"Yep," Stanley replied, lowering his tunic. "Anyway," he continued. "After I was patched up and given a few days leave from the front, I was told I was to become the leader of a squad of men and, well, that brings me here," he concluded.

"It must have been hard leaving Loos," Aiden said. "Did you leave any friends behind?"

"Not really," Stanley told him. "Not that I didn't want to make friends, or no one up there wanted to be friends with me but the few that I made before I went there all got killed within a few weeks,"

"Oh. Sorry about that,"

"Ah, It's alright," he sighed. "I mean, It's war, innit. Kill or be killed,"

Silence fell among them. Hans took a bite from his sandwich he had made from a piece of the baguette he had taken with a bit of brie in the middle. At once, his eyes went wide. A horrible taste was filling his mouth. The brie! It tasted…horrible.

"You alright, mate?" Stanley asked him.

Hans looked at him with his full mouth. Not wanting to be rude, he nodded and chewed and swallowed, grimacing a little at the horrible food he had just swallowed. Aiden and Wally noticed this and tried not to laugh.

"Right," Stanley said after a few moments, standing up. "I'm going to go and tour the area, see what It's like," he picked up his backpack and placed it back on his bed and said "See you lot later," to the men before he walked out of the dugout.

When he was gone, Wally got up and sat down in Stanley's seat.

"Well, he was nice," he said to which Aiden nodded at.

"Eeeuuurrgh!" Hans said, spitting a little on the floor. "That was the worst cheese I've ever tasted in my life,"

"That bad?" Aiden asked. "I liked it," he said, taking another bite

"Well, I'm glad I don't. Tastes like something gone off," Hans told him, taking the brie out of his piece of baguette and laying it on the table.

"Well, I think we'll get along well with Stanley," Wally said to them. Both Hans and Aiden nodded.

This time, their officer was not one who was aggressive or mean to his men. He was casual and friendly and they all liked him and he liked them. Something in Wally's mind told him that maybe things had finally turned for the better for him and his friends. It looked like they were finally a group that could get along with each other without the fear of being annoyed, picked on or hurt by their commanding officer.

For the first time since he had met Eve, Wally was happy. He was truly happy and nothing would get rid of it today. 


	36. The Second Battle of Ypres begins

**Three days later**

The last three days had been great for Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden with their new officer. They had all grown to like him, especially because he had a good sense of humour in telling the group funny stories of when he used to be a builder in Birmingham and he had had more than his fair share of incidents that had occurred whilst he was there, one of the funniest being when he and another four workers were building a house and there had been no co-ordination in trying to carefully put in a few valuable pieces of the house's soon-to-be new owner and as a result, Stanley ended up knocking a cabinet down a flight of stairs where he had left it and told one of the other workers to take it downstairs into the front room. The owner of the house was not at all pleased with his cabinet broken by a group of 'fools' as he called them and had promised them that he would never use them again, something which the group were not really bothered about.

Today, Stanley was sitting in the dugout with Wally and Hans talking with them. Moe and Aiden were outside on sentry duty. Bad luck for them as it was pouring with rain. The soft pitter patter of the rain hitting the wood outside filled the air but it was drowned out by the three's conversation. Hans was explaining about what he had done before the war.

"After I was done at school, I just got a job as a blacksmith's with my friend," he told Stanley. "Was working there from fourteen until I decided to join the army at the outbreak of war,"

"Ah, that's some life," Stanley commented as he stretched out his arms above his head. When he was done, he looked at Wally. "What about you, Wally?" he asked.

"Oh, well, me and my brother were working on our farm just outside Barham," Wally replied. "When war was declared we joined up happily like everyone else. We thought it was going to be fun, but I regret coming out here now. And I bet he does as well,"

"Oh, you got a brother?" Stanley asked him. "Is here as well?"

"No, he's up in Ypres," Wally answered.

"Oh," Stanley's voice sounded a little sympathetic. Then again, who would not if two brothers were separated in war and both were wondering if they would see the other again. "Well, I'm sure he's alright, Wally."

Wally smiled a little and nodded. "I just hope he's okay,"

Just then, the sound of rushing feet drew the three's looks towards the dugout entrance. Moe entered, looking a little shocked.

"Guys!" he exclaimed. "I've just heard from another officer! There's a battle going on up at Ypres!"

At this point, silence fell between them and Stanley, Moe and Hans turned to look at Wally, who sat there with disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had just heard, unable to believe that his worst fear had become a reality.

**Meanwhile, up at Ypres**

BOOM! BOOM!

Two shells exploded on the ground of a war torn wasteland akin to that at the Somme and everywhere else up and down the western front. Bits of trees were scattered everywhere along with barbed wire, bits of weapons and, occasionally, parts of soldiers, both allied and German, that had been unfortunate enough to be hit and literally blown apart by shells.

Hiding in a trench near the remains of a destroyed village called Gravenstafel, Hal was ducking do with his hands over his ears trying to block out the noise. There were about forty other soldiers in the trench with him, either copying him or looking out over the parapet of the trench across the wasteland in front of them, waiting for the imminent attack by the Germans.

Hal, like all his friends, had changed much as well since he arrived at the front. Although he was seventeen, he looked like he was in his late twenties. Bags hung under his eyes from the lack of sleep and he had many small bruises over his face from the constant fighting and the event when the German and British attack waves had launched trench raids at the same time and they ended up colliding in No Man's Land about four weeks ago. Bloody hand-to-hand fighting followed and Hal had ended up getting a black eye when a German, who was about as young as he was, punched him in the face and knocked him to the ground. Only quick thinking from another British soldier saved Hal from getting a bayonet to the chest. That small but very fierce battle had affected him ever since.

BOOM! Another shell burst just ten or so feet from the trench. Further down the trench behind Hal, a scream filled the air, indicating that another soldier had been hit by shrapnel.

"Bloody Hell!" one of the soldiers in front of Hal hissed. "The Jerries are really putting it on us today,"

"The Germans'll be 'ere soon," another piped up.

"Well, aren't the Frenchies and their colonial boys still alive?" another soldier asked.

"From what I've heard, they're still fighting hard but they won't last,"

"_PASSER! PASSER!"_

Hal and a few other soldiers shot up from behind their hidden cover to look out across the wasteland and see who was shouting. What he saw was horrible.

There was a tide of men, some of them black, indicating they were African colonial troops, running towards them, all of them in French uniforms that were torn and bloodied. Some had horrible wounds and were covered with mud. They all had panicked looks on their faces and were running towards the trench as if it would save them from whatever it was they were running from.

Then, Hal's eyes rested on a French soldier who had some kind of white liquid down his front. As he got closer, he saw it looked like foam, only it was not. It was froth and among it was blood. The soldier was coughing and spluttering as he ran, ignoring the froth as it went all over his legs and even his stomach that was visible through a tear in his uniform. Even when he threw up, which was now a sickly white/yellow colour, he did not stop he just continued running, getting some of the sick on his uniform.

_"PASSER!" _one of the French soldiers, a black colonial soldier, yelled. He had a tear in his uniform's chest and blood was running down his arm. When he saw the British soldiers in the trench, he screamed: _"PASSER! GAZ! GAZ!"_

"What's he saying?" one of the soldiers asked.

"I dunno," another soldier replied.

Hal watched the tide of French men ran past the trench, shouting and yelling. Some fell over, but none of their comrades stopped to help them up.

"Oh my God!" the soldier next to Hal gasped, pointing ahead across the wasteland.

Hal and those who heard the soldier looked to where the soldier was pointing. At once, their breaths were taken from them in horror.

Coming towards them was a huge cloud of yellow/green. It stretched on for what seemed like forever in both directions and was approaching the trench very quickly as if it were an all-conquering army barrelling unchallenged over everything in It's path. And by the rate it was moving, it would be on top of them in a few moments.

"SHIT!" a soldier up the trench screamed, climbing out of their cover. "RUN! IT'S GAS!"

**(Note: On Thursday 22****nd****, 1915, the Germans launched an attack on Ypres, which had been mostly destroyed by the fighting since late 1914, using chlorine gas on the village of Gravenstafel. The gas had caused the French, both native and colonial soldiers from North Africa, to retreat en masse. Sadly, many did not retreat in time. It is estimated that within the first ten minutes of the gas being released, at least 6,000 had died from the gas) **

At once, there was a scramble as the men pushed and shoved each other in a desperate bid to get out of the trench quickly. Hal climbed out and ran towards the ruins of the destroyed village a few hundred feet away with those who had managed to get out in time. After about ten seconds, he heard screams and yells pierce the air. Looking over his shoulder brought tears to his eyes as he saw many of the soldiers he had been with just moments earlier, many of them his comrades, be swallowed up the unstoppable yellow/green cloud of gas, many of them coughing and vomiting as the gas invaded their bodies, choking the very lives out of them.

Finally, Hal reached the village and wasted no time in rushing through the rubble filled roads of what had been houses, as well as part of the road itself, in trying to find a place to get away from the gas. Finally, after several moments of frantic searching in which the shouting and yelling and screaming caused by the gas cloud grew louder with every passing second, he found the entrance to a small wine cellar wide open. He wasted no time in running into the cellar and slammed the door shut. A tiny fragment of daylight came in through a small crack in the door, lighting up the large space of darkness Hal found himself in. He looked through the hole and saw nothing but devastation wherever he looked. It was hard to see how a once beautiful village where many people lived and enjoyed their lives was now destroyed the weapons of war.

Withdrawing himself from the door, he stepped backwards until he was stopped by the wall and slid down the floor. He brought his knees up to his chest and embraced them and, with a strangled sob, buried his face within them and began to cry.

Outside the gas cloud marched onward, engulfing everything and everyone unfortunate enough to have not gotten away in time. Many had already died by this terrible weapon's power, and many more were to follow before it was over.

**(Note: Despite the Germans releasing the chlorine gas and causing the French and British troops to flee en masse with their enemies in hot pursuit, the German High Command at Ypres ordered their men to halt in fear that they would overstretch themselves and expose their flanks. By the time they had regrouped, the opportunity for the Germans to take Ypres quickly and decisively, as the retreating allies had caused many breaches in the front line surrounding the town, was lost and so the battle would drag out like many conflicts had before it.) **


	37. Reassurance

**Later that night **

Another clear night had descended onto the Somme sector of the western front, giving the soldiers on the ground an amazing view of the stars in the sky. It was beautiful, especially if you were walking through a peaceful forest well behind the frontline. And that is what Wally and Eve were doing. Wally was in his uniform, not bringing his coat as the weather was no longer cold, and Eve was still dressed in her nurse's uniform as she had just finished her duty when Wally turned up.

However, when Wally arrived at the hospital, Eve quickly realised that there was something wrong with him. He was not his cheery self. In fact, he looked as though he was worried about something. What it was, Eve could not tell, but before she had even had time to ask him, he had walked away towards the woods.

The two were walking down the path they went down earlier this year when they had their snowball fight, though this time happiness no longer released itself from them, only fear and concern filled them and hung in the air around them like a cloud. Wally had barely spoken at all to Eve, which only worried her even more.

Eve sighed when she looked at Wally and saw him looking worried again. Alright enough was enough.

"Alright, Wally," she said, stopping him and facing him. "What is it?"

Wally looked away from her. He wanted to tell her, but he just did not know how to put it.

"C'mon," Eve urged him. "I know there's something wrong and I want to know what it is,"

Wally sighed. He would just have to say it to her the best way he could.

"I-I'm scared, Eve," he said.

Eve sighed. "Wall, I know how you feel about the front, but I ke-"

"No," Wally interrupted her. "I'm not talking about the front this time. I…" he paused and sighed again. "I'm worried about my brother, Hal,"

"Oh," Eve replied. She had heard about the battle going on up at Ypres by a radio reporter who worked upstairs, which was a command centre, in the upper parts of the hospital but it was only now she remembered that Wally had a brother up there. "Wally," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he's fine,"

"What if he isn't?" Wally asked, looking at her again. "What if he's lying dead or dying in a muddy field and I can't help him?" At this point, his voice began to break a little. "What if…I don't see him again? What if he di-"

"Wally, stop!" Eve said, trying to calm him down. "Look, just calm down, please!"

Wally nodded and walked over to a nearby tree and sat down, resting his back against the bark.

"I just don't want to hear the news that Hal's been killed, Eve," he said sadly. "I mean, I'm sure you must know how that feels with your father being in Verdun,"

Eve nodded as she walked over and sat down next to him. "Yeah, I do,"

Wally heaved another heavy sigh and rubbed his hand down the front of is face.

"You know, since Moe told us about the battle earlier on this afternoon, I've been worrying really badly about Hal," he said to Eve. "And imagining what would happen if I was go home and find out he was killed. I-I wouldn't be able to live with myself,"

"I know how you feel, Wally," Eve said. "I'm worried about my family as well,"

Wally looked at her, a little shocked.

"Why do you have someone else fighting on the frontline as well, besides your father?" he asked her.

"No, but…" she paused for a second, trying to find out how to word it all. She sighed and looked at him. "My family wasn't exactly… very, well wealthy," she explained. "It was hard working in Ruesnes, I had to go around and do any odd jobs for anyone to make some money. Then when the Germans invaded last summer, things got really bad because we had leave and, as I've told you already, go to my grandmother's house outside Paris. Things got really hard, especially that my mother had to look after my grandmother because she's a bit deaf and can't walk very well, so me and my dad signed up into the army, half to help, but mainly to earn some decent cash." She sighed and rested her head on her knees. "It's what been keeping me going, knowing that I'm finally helping my family earn a living."

Wally just stared at Eve, lost for words. He felt really sorry for her. Sure, there were times when his family had fallen upon stony ground in trying to earn a decent living, but for Eve to live with it for most of her life, it was hard to think about, let alone actually _live_ through it.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I can't really imagine living through that,"

"It's hard, but…" she paused. "Well, they usually say hard times bring the family closer together."

Wally smiled a little. "I'm sure they do." Eve looked up at him and smiled. "Look," he said. "I'm sure your family'll be fine one day. Maybe not during the war, but after It's over I'm sure your family'll earn a decent living,"

Eve smiled at him again and embraced him. "Thanks, Wally," she said. "I know I can count on you for friendship and help,"

Wally smiled. "And I can count on you for keeping me reassured on my family's safety,"

Eve released Wally and the two looked in each other's eyes. There it was again, that spark of love. They knew they could trust each other and count on each other for support and help, but they also knew that they loved each other, dearly. They did love each other and they did care for each other. What if…

Suddenly, Wally felt something wet hit the back of his neck. He looked up and saw a few clouds hanging in the air above them. More water ell from them. It was beginning to rain.

"Oh, God, where did that come from?" Wally asked himself as he and Eve stood up. The rain was only light, but it was best not to take any chances and see if it would get heavier.

"Let's go," Eve said. Wally nodded and the two ran up path back towards the hospital.


	38. Gallipoli

**Three days later**

Although Eve's reassurance had calmed Wally down a little from the fear of his brother being killed in the battle at Ypres, it did not stop him worrying. Now he was spending more time asking officers that had been to the headquarters at the hospital on any news of the battle, each time either lightened, or brought more worry to him.

_Well, it is better than hearing the news I'm scared of hearing the most._ Wally had told himself last night after he spoke to Stanley who had just returned from the headquarters, this time with no news from Ypres, which brought Wally's fears rocketing the most.

Today, he was lying on his bed, staring hopelessly up at the dugout ceiling. There was no doubt that he was still worrying about Hal. It was as if he could see the fighting his brother was going through one now, the suffering he was experiencing, the friends he was losing through gunfire and shells, the torn up wasteland and the never ending barrages that were tearing up Ypres and the British trenches.

Wally sighed and rolled over onto his side so he was facing the wall, lost in his thoughts of what _would_ happen if he was to receive the news he was dreading the most. He could only imagine it now, him going about his daily business and hearing from Stanley or some other officer that Hal had been killed, him breaking down. Then, it hit him. What about when the news of his brother's death hit home? He could imagine the pain and suffering they would go through when they heard one of their sons had died fighting in a war that was hopeless in all ways.

"Wally?" a voice from outside the dugout called.

Wally turned over and looked towards the dugout entrance just as captain Stanley entered. Wally sat up.

"What is it?" he asked. "H-have you got any news on Hal?"

"Yes," Stanley replied as he walked over to him.

Wally began to sweat. Both fear and happiness filled him, though only one of them would win the battle to take over his body when Stanley told him the news of his brother. His heart was beating madly like a drum against his chest. _What was it going to be? What was it going to be? _

_Please don't say he's dead! _Wally mentally pleaded. _Please!_

"Alright," Wally said, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the news. "What is it? Just please tell me straight, don't hold back or anything,"

Stanley nodded. "I got word from a radioman who's serving up in Ypres near where your brother's serving about half an hour ago. He's okay,"

At first, Wally was unable to understand what Stanley had told him, but when he finally realised, the happiness inside him erupted like a volcano. So much he jumped up and let out a yell of happiness.

"YES! Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!"

He grabbed Stanley's hand and shook it wildly. Stanley smiled.

"Anytime, Wally," he replied. "I'm glad I was able to help,"

"Yes, you helped a lot, sir," Wally told him. "Thank you again. I was so worried, I thought you were going to tell me he was dead,"

"Well, if I was, I would have told you straight, like you wanted me to," Stanley said. "But I also heard about something from one of the commanders. Don't worry, It's not about Hal. It's on something about a landing operation somewhere in Turkey. Oh, what's it called." He clicked his fingers several times and thought hard, trying to find the name of the place that was somewhere within his mind. "What is it? What is it?" he muttered several times before, finally. "Ah, I remember it now. Some place called Gallipoli,"

**Meanwhile, on the other side of Europe**

The Ottoman Empire of the Turks, the great Islamic force that once dominated an empire stretching from Persia to the Balkans including many countries like Egypt, Turkey, Palestine, Syria, Serbia, Bulgaria and Bosnia. However, the Ottoman Empire had been met with competition from rival major powers of Europe, who soon began to take advantage of the Empire's great size and began seizing It's territories. The British took Egypt and Mesopotamia (modern day Iraq) whilst Russia took lands on border with the Caucasus region, and, as if that was not bad enough for the Ottomans, the Balkans wars in the early 1910's made them lose almost the whole of the Balkans, save for the area of Istanbul, the capital of the Ottoman Empire.

For a while, it looked as though the Ottoman Empire would be safe from the horrors of war, but when Archduke Ferdinand had been killed even this great Empire which had had nothing to do with the relations between France, Russia, Germany and Austria Hungary, was not safe. In fact, Germany had been eyeing the Ottoman Empire for several years, hoping to look to them for aid in the event of war with the two powerful neighbours either side of Germany. However, when war had not been declared, the Germans, or even the Ottomans themselves, had not any attempt to fight on a third front against their enemies.

That was until October 1914.

A German battleship that had been chased across the Mediterranean by the British navy had taken refuge in Istanbul. The German captain took the opportunity to ask the Turks for their aid in the war and for help in repairing the damaged ship. The Turks, seeing a chance to reclaim their lost territories of Mesopotamia and Egypt, agreed and, thus, the Ottoman Empire was in the war on the side of Germany and Austria-Hungary.

Since then, the British had planned for a strike at the Turks that would quickly and decisively knock them out of the war. The channel that led to Istanbul, as it sat on the crossway between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean, was filled with mines so the only other quick way to Istanbul from the friendly side, which was near Greece, which had joined the Allies in the war, was the Gallipoli peninsula. Whoever controlled this controlled the route to Istanbul and the rest of the Ottoman Empire, as well as It's fate.

And today, the British and their Commonwealth nations, mainly comprising of India, Australia, New Zealand and Canada, and French and troops from their North African colonies, launched an invasion of the peninsula to take Istanbul and knock the Ottomans out of the war, something which they believed would be easy as they thought the Turkish defenders were weak and ill prepared.

Oh, how wrong they were.

In fact, when the first of the landings took place, the men were met with machine gun fire suffering heavy casualties. Although they had managed to gain ground and drive the Turkish armies back and inflict heavy casualties on their own army, the territory the Allies hoped to gain by the end of the day was still in Turkish hands. The entire operation, in a matter of hours, had turned into a disaster.

On a small rugged hill near the south west beach on the peninsula, known as W beach, a young man with blonde hair and dressed in an army tunic, trousers and boots crouched low, moving slow as bullets and shells flew all around him. He looked up from his position and saw the great fortress ahead of him. His name was Arthur from Cornwall. Behind him were four other men, a red haired young soldier of about twenty called Jack from London, an older soldier of about twenty nine from Liverpool called Aaron, a black haired soldier of about twenty three called Hugo also from London and a soldier of about nineteen from Birmingham called Jonathan. All four men behind Arthur were crouched low like him. All five of them had slightly wet uniforms from when they had to wade ashore in the disaster of the landing earlier on.

They were all part of the Lancashire Fusiliers and had been assigned to take the Turkish positions at the nicknamed W beach, which happened to be beneath an old fortress. However, when they had prepared to land, all of the men were leaving single file from the main ships to the landing craft and, what was worse, the Turkish defences were much more prepared then they had anticipated. Out of the around 200 strong soldiers that were to disembark first to the beach, only about 21 reached the beach, the rest falling victim to the Turkish machine gun defences in the fort.

Since then, the group of five men had fought their way up the cliffs to try and get to the fortress. They were not far from it now, but the building was across rugged terrain that was about twenty metres from where they were to the fort's entrance.

"Can ya' see any of the defend'rs, Arthur?" Hugo asked him.

Arthur looked out from behind the hill again quickly, but had to duck again as a bullet zipped over his head, narrowly missing it by a few inches.

"Yep," he replied. "Alright, listen, we need to get inta' that fort so we can get the rest of the army 'ere safely so we need three of us to stay 'ere and lay down covering fire whilst me and someone else runs forward to the fort. Who's staying?"

Hugo, Jonathan and Jack raised their hands. Arthur nodded

"Right, get ready," he ordered. "Aaron, up 'ere next to me,"

Aaron moved and crouched down next to Arthur whilst the other three men in the squad raised their rifles, preparing to fire on the Turkish defenders.

"Right, on three," Arthur said, taking a deep breath. He knew that this charge could cost him his life but it was in service of his country and, most importantly, to help the rest of the army break through the defences. "One… Two… THREE!"

Arthur and Aaron ran from behind the hill as Hugo, Jonathan and Jack fired at the fort to try and prevent the Turkish machine gunners from firing at their two comrades.

Arthur's heart was beating madly against his chest, not only just from the running but also from the fear of being fired at from the Turkish defenders, but he was getting closer to the fort. Just another ten metres…_nine_…_eight_…_seven, almost there. _

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Turkish soldier, aiming his rifle through the window of one of the guard houses of the fort, aiming it straight at them! It was a sniper!

"AARON, GET DOWN!" Arthur yelled, pushing his comrade to the ground as the Turkish soldier fired.

The bullet tore Arthur's chest and exited his side. Arthur collapsed onto his knees, gasping for breath, blood running down his hand as he touched the entry wound of the bullet. Then, looking up at the sky, as if he were looking at Heaven to accept his fate, he fell forward onto the ground.

His part in the war was over, but he was just another soldier, killed in action and forgotten in a wasteland akin to what the Allies were facing on the western front in France. More shells exploded around him and bullets zipped overhead, ready to take the lives of more men in this conflict. 


	39. A rat in the dugout

**Four days later**

The day had been hard for veterans on the frontline. Not only had a spell of bad weather struck the frontline, but the Germans had decided to launch an all day shelling attack, which was, at first, believed to be the prelude to an offensive. However, they had halted it about an hour ago, finally giving the British trenches a chance to quickly rebuild the damage done to them by the shells. Men were still rushing around trying to quickly rebuild the damage in case the day long barrage was the prelude to an offensive that Germans might launch tonight.

Wally, Stanley, Moe, Hans and Aiden walked into the dugout, all of them exhausted by the long hours working to rebuild the damage done by the barrage. Stanley turned on the light bulb, lighting up the dugout with faintly, but just more than enough for the group to see what they were doing. All of them made their ways to their bed and literally dropped down onto them, eager to get some rest.

"Oh, bloody Hell," Stanley gasped. "I've never worked that hard before in my life."

"The joys of the frontline," Hans joked, laughing a little as he sat up and took off his boots and put them on the floor next to his bed. The others did the same with theirs. Wally took his coat and yawned.

"I could sleep for the rest of the week," he said.

"Me too," Moe replied.

Aiden grunted a little as he pulled off his boot with a bit of difficulty. His feet had swollen a little because his boots were a little small for his feet. He rubbed his foot, wincing a little in pain.

"Ah!" he gasped. "I'm going to need to get new boots," he said. "These ones are killing me' feet,"

"Well, we're off the front tomorr'w," Stanley told him as he shifted himself a little so he was lying fully down on his bed. "You'll be able to get new ones then,"

"I'll be looking forward to that," Aiden put his boots under his bed and lay down, resting his head on the pillow. He yawned loudly and closed his eyes, almost instantly falling asleep.

"Hey, someone turn off the light," Moe said.

Stanley got up and turned off the light bulb, leaving the faint white light coming in from the outside to fill the dugout. He walked back over to his bed and laid down upon it, quickly falling asleep. Hans and Moe had also fallen asleep, but Wally was still awake. He had not heard anything from Ypres since Stanley told him about Hal being alright a few days ago. He was glad Hal was okay, but he just wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Just hearing he was okay from that day did not mean he _would_ live through the battle. There was still a chance that he could be taken over the next few months, whether it be quick or painful, he would still be taken.

Finally, Wally let sleep overtake him and he closed his eyes, letting darkness take him.

**Several hours later**

SNORT! SNORT!

Wally's eyes shot open as the noise filled his ears. What the…? What the Hell was that noise? He sat up in hid bed and heard the same noise around the dugout. Then Moe's voice exclaimed: "What was that?"

"Weren't me," came Aiden's voice.

SNORT! SNORT! There it was again! What was it?

"What the bloody Hell is making that racket?" Stanley groaned loudly, sitting up, obviously annoyed by being woken up.

"I dunno," Moe replied.

Wally stood up and looked under his bed. Though it was quite dark, he could just about make out the wall and the floorboards of the dugout. He could see nothing of the usual under his bed so it was not coming from anywhere near him.

SNORT! SNORT!

Wally looked over towards the bottom left corner of the dugout, just a few feet in front of the end of his bed. It sounded like it was coming from there. He stepped over to it carefully and, as he got closer, he could make out a black shape on the floor and, though very faintly, he could make out a nibbling sound. What was it?

Suddenly, the light bulb turned on, filling the dugout. The black shape, all of a sudden, darted towards the table in the middle of the room. Though it went quickly, Wally could just make it out be huge, at least the size of a small cat at the most.

"RAT!" he shouted.

At once, the others were frantically grabbing their boots or something heavy and began running around their beds, hitting the floor hard with their weapons. The rat was still snorting away loudly, which surprised Wally that he could hear it over the noise of the shouting and thumping, as it ran under beds to get away from the others. Wally ran over to his bed, grabbed one of his boots and joined the others, who were trying to corner the rat.

Finally, after a few hectic minutes of running, thumping and shouting, Moe and Hans managed to kill the rat as it attempted to make a run for it from underneath Aiden's bed to the table. Grabbing it by the end of It's tail, Moe picked it up and showed it to the others. It was huge, actually the size of a fully grown cat! It's grey fur was mangled and dirty. On the floor where Hans and Moe had killed it was a tiny pile of something yellow that was covered in spots of black.

"Blimey, he's a big bugger!" Aiden said as Stanley knelt down and picked up the pile of yellow and black stuff.

"Who's been leaving this brie on the floor?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

Everyone's eyes turned to Hans, who felt guilty for leaving perfectly exposed food for rats to come and take, especially if it were ones that woke up the men from their sleep in the middle of the night.

Stanley was not at all pleased.

"Right!" he said, taking the rat by the body and thrusting it into Hans' hands. "You can get rid of 'im and those bloody crumbs!"

Nodding, Hans walked over to the dugout entrance and disappeared outside into the trench. Wally sighed and walked back over to his bed. The others followed his example and returned to their beds, hoping to get back to sleep after this sudden fiasco. As they lay down, after returning their boots and whatever other weapons they had used to their original places, Hans re-entered and picked up the pile of brie pieces and walked back over to the dugout entrance and threw them outside into the trench. If there were any more of them, they would eat them. After that, he turned off the dugout light bulb and laid back down on his bed, quickly falling asleep, though hoping that this would all be forgotten by tomorrow morning.

Wally mentally agreed it probably would, but he doubted Stanley would let Hans have any more brie for a while.

**Author note**

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to Joe Yarwood (1896-1995) who, in an interview, told of when a rat that he said would come under their beds, snorting away and "sounding more like a pig than a rat," After a failed attempt one evening to kill the rat, they had better luck when the rat fled under their beds' blankets during an artillery barrage and they managed to kill the rat using their boots and hung it outside in the trench, only to discover the next morning, which shocked me as I read his story, that the other rats had eaten his body until there was only the skeleton left. **


	40. Seeing a horse

**Date: May 13****th**

The past few days had been a bit more relaxing for the squad. They were relieved two days ago for some rest from the frontline, which they did not decline. They were staying in an abandoned farmhouse near the remains of the village Stanley said he had bought his brie from. It was finally good that they were able to get a good night's sleep without being woken up and having to see their comrades being killed by every way possible on the frontline.

Today, they were on a grassy hill that was surrounded by the field that led to the rear trenches, giving them a clear view of the frontline and also of a paved pathway that was a supply route that led to the rear trenches. It was amazing to see how such a beautiful landscape was on border with the landscape of Hell itself.

Stanley and Wally were sitting on the edge of the hill's top, watching the frontline. Every few seconds, a few puffs of smoke would appear at the German trenches, indicating a few snipers were about. Not far behind the German trenches, they could also make out a pathway that was also a supply route for their forces. Every now and then, they would see a few shapes moving about on the German pathway. They were most likely horses carrying supplies of all types to the men.

"Hey Stanley, want to play?" Moe asked him.

He looked over his shoulder to see Moe, Hans and Aiden sitting cross legged on the ground playing cards with a piece of cardboard as the 'table'. Stanley smiled.

"Alright," he said, walking over to them. Hans moved over and Stanley sat down. Moe handed him a few cards. "But I should warn you fella's, I'm quite good at cards,"

"You won't be able to beat me," Moe replied. "I'm an expert,"

"Want to bet on that?" Stanley asked him, smiling a little.

"Alright," Moe reached for his backpack on the ground behind him, opened it and took out a bottle of wine. Across the front of it was the name _Champagne _across the front. He placed it down on the front on the 'table', drawing a few wide-eyed looks from Aiden, Hans and even Stanley, and smiled smugly. "I'll bet this,"

Wally, who had watched this, smirked a little and resumed looking back out across the frontline. The sky was mainly clear but a few large clouds hung in the air, but still it was quite a beautiful scene, apart from the wasteland far below him. Thoughts ran through his mind of what this place must have looked like before the war began. It was probably a great big field where the inhabitants would go for walks and enjoy life in peace and quiet here. Well, all of that had been taken away from them and it would be a long time before they could enjoy the beauty of this natural area once again.

"Where d'you get this?" Stanley asked picking up the bottle and examining it.

"Traded it with a Frenchy I met yesterday in the village," Moe answered. "They seem to like our bully beef so they're willing to trade their wine for it,"

**(Note: This was actually true. French soldiers would trade wine with the British, which they gladly accepted, for their bully beef**.)

"You're gonna have to say goodbye to this," Stanley warned as he set the wine back on the table. "That will be mine after this game,"

"You mean: _mine_, sir," Moe replied. "I'm going to enjoy this," he added, patting the bottle and licking his lips slightly as if he were drinking the wine already.

"You're on," Hans began to lay out the cards to the two of them in their bid to win the tasty and delicious bottle of wine. Whilst he was doing this, Moe looked at Wally. 

"Hey, Wally!" he called. "You want to come and watch?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," he replied. "I don't really want to see you two go mad and end up fighting over a bottle of wine."

"We won't fight over it."

"But I'll smash your face in if you cheat," Stanley piped up, pointing his finger at Moe to show he was serious.

"Don't worry, sir. I don't cheat. Right, let's play." They began playing their card game.

Wally just shook his head, laughing a little and went back to staring back out across the great warzone below him. He saw a few small shapes moving about behind the German lines on the pathway. A hint of interest filled him.

He stood, walked over to Stanley's bag, also looking over at Stanley to make sure he did not see him going through his bag, which he did not as he was too busy trying to win the bottle of wine from Moe, looked through his bag and took out Stanley's pair of binoculars. He then walked back over to the edge of the hill, sat down and began looking through the binoculars at the pathway behind the German line.

It was amazing! He could see horses that looked really beautiful. Brown ones, black ones, white ones. It all reminded him of being back at home with his horses. Wally sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment. He would do anything to be back with them right now. If only he wish himself back there right now.

He shook the thoughts of his horses out of his mind. _Best not depress himself and look like an idiot in front of the others _he mentally said to himself as he looked back through the binoculars at the horses. As he did, a particular horse caught his eye. It was a dark brown but had white around It's hooves, but it was amazing to see this one. Somehow, it just stuck out a little more than all the others. Wally could not but feel this one had something that made it more important, not that he cared about this one more than the others but it felt like there was a type of priority with this one. Though what it was, Wally could not tell

"Hey, Wally," a voice from behind him said. Uh oh, it was Stanley. He turned slowly, ready to be shouted at. "What are you doing with my binoculars?" Stanley asked.

"I-I'm j-just…looking out…over at the German horses, sir," he replied, stuttering a little.

"Well, don't break 'em and make sure you put 'em back when you're done," Stanley replied and with that he returned to the game as if nothing had happened.

Wow! That was a real surprise he did not get yelled at or anything. Huh, I just showed that Stanley was a better officer than Gomer, probably the only officer Wally saw as a friend since he arrived, maybe apart from Adam though. He turned back around and resumed looking out at the German front line. He tried looking for that horse again but by the time he saw it, the animal was being led away from the frontline. Wally sighed. Oh, well. Maybe he would catch sight of it again soon, hopefully, and he continued looking through the binoculars at the German frontline. Behind him, he heard Moe groan and slam the 'table', indicating he must have lost his card game, and his wine.


	41. Where d'you suppose they all went?

**The next evening**

Tonight was a cloudy night for the Somme sector but no rain was predicted to fall so that lightened the mood a little. The weather even at night was beginning to get a bit warmer as well because at night there usually a gentle breeze, but tonight there was almost no wind so many of the soldiers had taken off their tunics to try and cool down in the warm weather.

Behind the line at the remains of the nearby village, a group of about thirty soldiers were lined up outside the remains of what had been the town hall, some of them smoking cigarettes whilst others were talking to each other, or doing both. The town hall was a large square shaped building that had been built out of stone that was cracked in some parts, mainly because of the shelling. Also, large chunks of the sides and the rook were missing. Scattered around on the ground in front of the building was what had been part of the neighbouring building, a restaurant that the Germans had pillaged last year during their big advance into France before they had to turn back and the building had taken a direct hit from a large shell. No one had bothered to rebuild it because it was so close to the frontline, making it dangerous, and because of the fact that it would not last very long, a few days max, before it would be blown apart by shells.

Near the back of the line were Wally, Moe, Hans and Aiden. Stanley was attending to some other matters elsewhere. They were talking about what they were doing here at the town hall.

"Apparently, It's a surprise," Hans said. "At least that what the officers called it," he added.

"If it is a surprise, I wonder what it is." Moe replied, looking curiously at the building.

"If anything, a way out of this hellhole," Wally piped up.

The others nodded in agreement with him. They, like him, would do anything to go back home. The other soldiers in the line were the same. They overheard another soldier near the middle of the line talk about how he would prefer this 'surprise' to be a ticket out of France and back home, something that most men on both sides of the frontline would do anything for in order to get back home, back to their normal lives.

"Alright, men," a voice said from the front of the line announced. The soldiers looked up and saw a middle aged looking officer standing at the front of the line a few feet from the first soldiers. "In you come,"

Dropping and stamping out their cigarettes and ending their conversations, the men followed the officer into the town hall building through a rectangular shaped hole where the door had once been. They walked into the foyer building where a wooden staircase leading up to the opposite wall in front of them before splitting into two separate staircases, one going left and one going right. Below these two staircases was a wooden door. Another officer greeted them and took half the men through the door on the left whilst the first officer left the remainder through the right.

They found themselves in a large square shaped room with lime green coloured walls and a stage at the opposite end with red curtains, obviously telling plays and such used to be played here before the war began. A set of chairs, numbering ten across and three down, had been set up in the middle of the room. A projector was set up about ten feet in front of the first row of chairs with another chair next to it.

"Set yourselves down, lads," the first officer said as he walked down the side of the hall and stood next to the projector and turned it on. The other officer sat down on the chair next to the projector. The soldiers sat down on the chairs. Wally, Hans, Moe and Aiden were sitting near the right end of the second row.

For several moments, the soldiers watched as the officers worked on the projector before the first officer turned to them ad announced: "Right, lads. I'm gonna give you a lecture on birds. It may sound boring but It's actually quite interesting,"

When the officer turned his back on the soldiers and turned on the projector, the soldiers began to mutter amongst themselves, obviously sounding displeased at what they were really here for.

"Oh great!"

"Wow, and I thought this was worthwhile,"

"This is gonna be boring,"

"Wow, we came here thinking we were getting something worthwhile and we end up 'aving to sit here being bored to death about bloody birds." Moe said.

Aiden nodded. "I'd rather be stuck outside clearing up that mess next door," he said.

"Okay, the officer at the front began as the light from the projector showed a picture of a bird flying through the air above a field. "This is the swallow, fast moving and very beautiful birds they are," and he began to drone on about the bird, making the men groan. Even Wally, who was always fascinated by nature, was finding this boring.

It took a full ten minutes for the officer to be done with the swallow before he moved onto the next bird, a type of eagle native to Britain and droned on about that, which took even longer than the first. Then after that (you guessed it) there was another bird, some kind of bird Wally had never heard of before. The men were coming to the point of tearing their hair out if they did not get out of here soon.

When the officer had droned on about the fourth bird and moved onto the fifth, neither him nor his other officer friend glanced back once, Wally began to notice movement out of the corner of his eye, as he was third in from the end of the row. He looked around and saw that some of the chairs were empty. Where were the soldiers that had been sitting in them?

He got his answer when he saw a few figures disappear through the doors into the hall. They had sneaked out! Just as he looked towards the door, the last three soldiers on the back row, who were at the opposite end of the row to Wally, quickly got up and running as quietly as they can, to the door. They pushed it open and disappeared from sight.

"Hey guys," Wally whispered to Hans, Aiden and Moe, indicating over to the empty chairs and at two other soldiers from the front row that were sneaking towards the door. "They're sneaking out,"

Upon hearing these words, their eyes lit up.

"Good idea," Moe said. "Let's do the same."

"What, you want to sneak out?" Wally asked him.

"I'm not staying here to be bored to death by this old bag droning on about birds," he replied and with that, he slowly stood up, trying to be as quiet as he could, and crept towards the door. Hans did the same and Aiden stepped over Wally's legs and followed them, but he stopped at the end of the row of chairs and turned to look at Wally.

"C'mon, Wally," he said. "You can't really be serious in staying here, can you?" he asked him.

Wally did not reply but instead looked over at the projector where the officer was still droning on. There were only about four other soldiers in the room now, all of them sitting on the front row directly behind the projector, their eyes fixed on the screen. It was obvious they were going to stay here, but what about him?

Finally, Wally sighed. He did not want to be rude but he had to admit, he did not want to be here. Maybe it was best if he did leave.

Quietly standing up, he sneaked with the others out of the hall, quietly closing the doors behind him.

About ten minutes later, the officer finished and turned off the projector and cleared his throat.

"Right," he said. "Now, any questions?" he asked, turning to face the now almost completely empty hall. When he saw the hall was almost completely empty, a puzzled look came across his face and he scratched his head. The other soldiers and the other officer turned to see that the hall was now almost empty save for them. They too were puzzled at seeing the empty sight before them.

"Where d'you suppose they all went?"

**Author note**

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to private Len Smith, who went to a nearby town hall building in a village near where he was stationed and was also bored from listening to an officer drone on about birds, until he and most of the men in the room snuck out until the officer was almost on his own. I would also like to note I learnt this from his book 'Drawing Fire' which I must say is an extraordinary book that can make you smile, feel sympathetic and even bring a few tears about how he survives on the frontline of the western front. **


	42. Admitting their love

**Date: May 20****th**

The past few days had been a hellhole for the squad. Shortly after they had returned to the trenches on the 16th, the Germans launched two attacks on the British trenches, which were believed to be either the start of an offensive, or just an attack to test the British defenders for their defences and manpower.

The next day after that, nothing much had happened, but then the next day, the 18th, the Germans launched a large trench attack with about 150 men. This time, the attack was the start of a small offensive, but just to see if they could break through. The result was a massacre for the Germans, although they almost did break through the British line, with about 120 dead and most of the remainders wounded, some being forced to be left in No Man's Land.

The day after that, the Germans seemed to want revenge for the great loss of men in No Man's Land and launched a barrage of shells at the British line for most of the day. A lot of men up and down the trench were killed or wounded with shrapnel. Stanley even had a lucky escape when he was helping get a wounded soldier, who had been in the machine gun nest in front of the dugout, to a safe place when a shell burst nearby, only about six feet behind him. Miraculously, the shell had hit the ground at a bit of an angle so it was nearly facing completely right of the dugout, and the shrapnel had been launched down that direction of the trench. It had, though, injured two other unfortunate soldiers, one of who sadly died later that evening.

Afterwards, things calmed down but it had been more than any soldier's fair share of experience they would usually get on the frontline.

Earlier on this evening, Wally had left the trenches to go and visit Eve again. Like most of the times, they were sitting on the bench outside the hospital talking. Tonight, Eve had surprised Wally when she mentioned an old friend.

"Really?" Wally asked her, to which she nodded at.

"Yeah, Adam's almost in healthy condition," she said. "He should be back at the frontline soon,"

"Oh, that's great," Wally replied, sighing happily. He was glad Adam was coming back to the frontline, even though he had enjoyed Stanley being their squad leader. "Thanks for looking after him, Eve,"

"It's okay,"

Silence fell between the two as they looked up at the stars. It was a clear night and tonight, the view of the stars was as great as ever. It was so beautiful and peaceful looking. The two began to think if only that same feeling would come down here and bring an end to this war, but quickly realised that wishing or believing that peace itself would not come down from the heavens and bring an end to the fighting. This war was one that was going to have to be solved by Man, but, by the looks of things at the moments, that seemed like something that was very, _very far away_. Months, years even, away.

In this silence, the two could hear the activity coming from the hospital. There were a few wounded being brought in from the frontline, most likely either from a small barrage or from a last minute night attack before both armies set down for the night.

However, something else began to edge It's way into the silence. Wally looked at Eve, who was fixed with looking up at the stars. He really admired her. Not only because she was physically beautiful, but also because she was nice, caring and very sweet, as if he could feel all of those amazing qualities of her radiating from her akin to afire radiating heat. He could accept the fact that he saw her more than just a friend. He saw her as if she were a member of his family, someone he really cared about.

Someone he _loved_.

At that moment, Eve noticed he was looking at her and looked at him. Wally quickly tried looking back up at the sky to try and fool her into believing that he had been looking up at the sky but it failed embarrassingly.

"Were you looking at me?" she asked.

"No," Wally replied quickly, his face turning red a little.

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't," Wally's face began to blush even more. At seeing this, Eve giggled.

"Wally, you're a terrible liar." She said. "Why were you looking at me?" she asked, staring at him patiently, waiting for an answer.

"I…" Wally began but quickly trailed off. He was silent for a moment before he looked at Eve, meeting her gaze, and smiled a little. "I think you're really beautiful," he said.

"I thought you told me that before," she replied.

"I did, but…what I mean now is that I think you're sweet, and caring and…someone who I see as a true friend, Eve," he said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop him. In fact, he even found himself moving towards her and took her hand in his "Eve," he said. "I…I love you,"

When she heard this, Eve went silent for a few moments, obviously shocked at what Wally had just said to her. They stared at each other for a few moments as if in a trance before she replied with a smile.

"I'm glad you made the first move," she said, making Wally's eyes widen.

"Y-you knew that I loved you?" he asked her.

"Well…not really know. I mean, I had a feeling but I wasn't really sure. But I was feeling the exact same way about you. I love you too," she took his other hand and moved closer to him so that her face was directly in front of his.

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, as if their love was coming into contact with each other's. They truly loved each other and nothing would break them apart.

Wally moved his head forward a little towards Eve's. Slowly, she did the same, their eyes closing. A moment or so later, their lips met and their passion and love for each other burned furiously. They were kissing.

Very quickly, they became lost in the kiss. Eve put her arm around Wally's neck and pulled him closer. Wally wrapped his arm around her middle back. Eve's mouth opened slightly and Wally copied her. Very quickly, their tongues began battling for dominance. Their passion and love for each other was now reaching a boiling point, burning as wildly as ever.

Finally, out of the need for oxygen and realisation for what they were doing, the two pulled apart from each other, blushing furiously.

"Sorry," Wally said after a few moments silence.

"No, I'm sorry," Eve replied. "I didn't know what I was doing,"

"Neither did I,"

The two laughed off what they had done and stood up.

"I've got to get going," Wally said to Eve.

"Okay, bye," she replied, giving him a little wave before she walked off quite quickly towards the hospital.

As Wally walked away back in the direction of the trenches, his mind began to replay constantly what he and Eve had just done. They had admitted their love to each other, kissed and…almost ended up making love. It was a different thing for him to experience, but he did get something off his chest in this period of time. He finally admitted to Eve that he loved her, and was shocked to learn she felt the same way about him.

Maybe they really did have a relationship between each other, one that they would really cherish within them.


	43. End of the Second Battle of Ypres

**Five days later**

**Location: Bellewaarde, Ypres Salient**

The past three days had been relatively quiet for the squad. The Germans had only launched one trench attack; a few shells had been fired from the German lines at the British trenches, who returned a few shells at the German trenches, but apart from that nothing had really happened, which was just the way they liked it.

However, they had been on alert and heard from the battle raging up at Ypres that the Germans were getting close to the remains of the city, taking all of the surrounding villages to the east of the city, or what was left of them. The Germans had suffered heavy losses, as had the British and French, but their advance was slowing down quickly, even when they had launched more gas attacks on the region to try and break through the line, they would not be able to catch up with it to gain the breaches in the Allied lines, and now the British and French had been fitted with gas masks, which allowed them to stay in the gas affected areas, as long as they did not directly breath it in or stay in the low areas where the deadly vapour settles.

Wally had also been worried about this. He was worried about his brother and whether he was still alive and okay. He had been asking Stanley about any news on him but all he got was the same story every time Stanley returned from the HQ; the Germans had recently been stepping up their attacks to try and break through the stalemate, but so far none of them had been successful in doing so, only gaining a few hundred yards.

Yesterday, however, they had gathered in full force and launched an attack on the village of Bellewaarde, which, like all the other villages around the Salient, had been almost razed to the ground by the fighting, just outside Ypres. Like they had done at the start of the battle, they had released a wave of gas to push back the British. However, they had mainly held their positions and were still fighting off against German attacks.

In a small trench that ran through what used to a small garden of a cottage, Hal and three other soldiers were taking cover. One of them was a soldier from Cardiff called Bamforth and the other two were from Canada, one from Newfoundland, who was called Tyler and the other from British Columbia, who was called Isaac. They had retreated from the frontline trench outside the village along with their comrades, who were now, like them, taking cover in smaller trench networks scattered throughout the village.

The Germans had launched an attack yesterday afternoon but had decided to hold their attack at night, giving the scattered British defenders a chance to regroup and call for reinforcements. However, this morning they had resumed their attack and had taken some of the forward trench networks.

"Isaac, can ya' see anything," Bamforth asked him as his comrade looked over the trench parapet at the wasteland in front of them. More shells burst in the distance and the faint sound of gunfire and shouting was just within earshot.

"No, nothing," he replied. "The Boche must've buggered off to another part of the trench network."

The other nodded in agreement. Hal rested his back against the side of the trench and took out a small piece of paper with writing on it from his pocket. It was a letter to his brother. He had been meaning to send it yesterday but the unexpected attack on the village had prevented him from doing so. He sighed and put it back in his pocket.

He, like his older brother, had been worrying about his only other family member that was out here in this hellhole and nearly half-way down the almost 400 mile stalemate that ran from the Channel to Switzerland. It was hard living with the fact that his brother could be killed and he would have to return home alone, something which he hoped would not happen.

"You alrigh', Hal?" Bamforth asked him. Hal looked up at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

"You worried about someone?" Bamforth asked, to which Hal nodded at.

"My brother down at the Somme,"

Bamforth rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm sure he's alright, and probably worrying about you,"

"What's going on?" Tyler asked, drawing the two's gaze.

"Hal's just a bit worried about his brother," Bamforth answered.

"Don't worry, Hal," Tyler told him, giving him a reassuring smile. "He'll be fine. I know what's It's like to worry about a family member being in a war and you not being with 'em. I mean, I've got a brother who's in Gallipoli and I've been worrying about him 'cause I don't want him to get killed."

Hal nodded. "Maybe your right,"

"Of course. Look, all of our family member's, whether our brothers or sisters or parents are worrying about us being out here because we might not come back from this battle. Well, we're gonna prove them wrong 'cause we will come out of this battle alive."

Bamforth nodded in agreement, as did Isaac. Hal took in what Tyler had just said. _Yes, we'll make it out of here. We will make it out of here alive. _He too then nodded and, whilst the others had gone to look out across the wasteland of the village, took out his letter from his pocket and read through it again. When his eyes reached the bottom, he found out it was not signed by him.

_Best do that quickly_Hal mentally said to himself as he reached into his backpack to grab a pen.

_WHOOSH_! BOOM! _WHOOSH! _BOOM!

Two explosions erupted nearby, making the four duck their heads to avoid getting hit by any shrapnel. More explosions followed quickly afterwards, covering almost the entire area that was visible to the naked eye. A few shouts echoed in the distance, indicating that some had been hit.

_Or…_

"Watch out! Here come the Germans!" Isaac shouted all of a sudden, bringing up his rifle.

He was right. Emerging from the ruins of the destroyed houses and cottages and such in front of the trench, a wave of about twenty men in grey uniforms had appeared. German soldiers and they were heading straight for them!

The four brought up their rifles and fired on the approaching Germans. One of them yelled out and fell backwards onto the ground, dead. Another ran past his fallen comrade and took out a grenade and threw it towards the trench.

"GET OUT OF THE TRENCH!" Hal yelled.

The four climbed out of the opposite side of the trench just as the grenade landed where they had just been but just as they left one danger behind, they had thrown themselves into another. They had exposed themselves to the German soldiers, but as their enemies were about to raise their rifles…

_BOOM! _An explosion erupted in the middle of the group of Germans, followed by a chorus of screams as they fell to the ground, either dead or peppered with shrapnel. By some stroke of luck, a shell or a mortar, probably from the German lines, had landed and killed them. That was one of the dangers about shells. No matter who made them, whether Britain, Germany, France or any other nation involved in this war, the shells and mortars once fired did not take any side. If any soldiers from the side they had been fired from happened to be in the danger zone of where the explosive would land, then it was just tough luck. Shells and mortars were made to kill people, not make any exceptions, no matter whom or what they were.

Hal breathed a sigh of relief. They had just been saved, but it was best they did not chance their luck by staying about in the trench. The shelling was starting to get more intense and the screams from the injured Germans was bound to attract more of their comrades. It was best they legged it before more enemy reinforcements did show up.

Just then, as the others took off, Hal noticed something. Where was his letter? He searched his pockets and found they were empty. Then, looking round, he saw the piece of paper on the ground on the parapet of the trench. Running forward, he hoped to grab it and quickly join the others.

"Hal, what are you doing? C'mon!" he heard Bamforth shout.

"Just leave the letter, Hal!" Isaac's voice added.

He ignored them. He was not going to leave something important, and that he hoped to send to his brother, on the ground to be blown apart by a shell. He _was _going to get it and take it back with him to safety.

"HAL, WATCH OUT!" Isaac yelled all of a sudden.

The zipping of bullets through the air made Hal dive to the ground. He looked up from his position and saws another group of Germans, though this time they were numbering about ten, among them were several medics, at where the previous group of Germans, or what was left of them, had been. Whilst the medics picked up the wounded, the rest of the group of German soldiers began firing at their four enemies ahead of them.

"Hal!" Tyler shouted as he dived to the ground whilst Bamforth and Isaac ran for cover amongst the nearby ruins. "C'mon!"

"Hang on!" Hal shouted back as he inched closer to his letter. He was just a few inches from it and he reached out to grab it.

Suddenly, a bullet struck the ground a few inches from his hand, right where the letter was, tearing it apart.

_NO! _Hal seemed to yell in his mind. The one thing he was going to send to his brother was gone, destroyed in battle and forgotten, but the Germans were not really going to care about a letter. They just wanted to break the deadlock on the western front and they were really not going to make an exception for a soldier who wanted to send something to a relative also serving on the front.

Sighing in defeat, and trying desperately to hold back tears, Hal turned and crawled back towards his comrade, who quickly rose up and fired a shot at the Germans, who dived for cover knowing their enemies were armed as well. Seizing the opportunity, Hal got up and sprinted towards Tyler, who ran with him into the ruins, narrowly escaping the Germans as they returned fire on them.

"Don't ever do that again, you idiot!" Tyler hissed at him as they ran through the ruins to try and find Bamforth and Isaac.

**(Note: After the British were driven from the village Bellewaarde, they launched several counterattacks to retake the village, but all attempts had failed. Nevertheless, the German hope to break through the frontline stalemate by taking Ypres had failed and had only gained several hundred yards after just over a month of heavy fighting that had left around 69,000 Allied troops and around 35,000 German troops dead.)**


	44. Talking with Stanley

**Date: June 1****st**

The good weather of the past few days had changed from sunny and clear blue skies to clouds covering every inch of the sky. Luckily, none of the clouds looked as though they held any rain so the soldiers on the western front were okay, from the weather at least. They were still wary from the German threat just a hundred yards, or even less, ahead of them. All that was saving them from an attack by the Germans was the wasteland of mud and death. The Germans were feeling the same way. If the British decided to attack the German trenches, then No Man's Land was acting as a type of weak barrier to try and slow down their advance. For both sides, this barrier was a wall of defence, but also a pit for death.

In the trench, Wally and Stanley were sitting in the square shaped hole behind Aiden, who was on sentry duty with three other soldiers. Hans and Moe were asleep, having been on sentry for duty for much of last night.

"So you haven't really killed a single German soldier since you've arrived at the front," Stanley said to Wally, who was explaining to him about what had happened to him since he had arrived into France on the western front.

"Yep," Wally replied, heaving a heavy sigh. "It's one thing I didn't really think about until I was on the ship leaving Dover and heading for Calais. I then realised that I would be taking someone else's life, but I just couldn't do it," he heaved another sigh. "I could never take another person's life, even if they're endangering my own,"

"I know 'ow ya' feel, Wally," Stanley said. "When I arrived at the front, I didn't really like the idea of taking another person's life. For the first few weeks, though, I was lucky that where I was we weren't attacked from the ground, more often shelled. But then in my third week at the front, we were caught right in the middle of a trench raid. I didn't want to hurt the Germans as they came across, but it was then I realised that I weren't them, then it would be me. And I didn't really want to die, so I fired on one Jerry and killed him, the only one before they decided to turn round and leg it back to their trench."

"How did you feel after you killed that German?" Wally asked him.

"Well," Stanley began, quickly trailing off as he tried to word out what he wanted to say. "I did ate myself at first 'cause, y'know I took someone else's life and as I'm a Catholic, I'm a big man for the church and all that and I disobeyed…whatever Commandment number it was about not taking another person's life and I went against it. But afterwards, I realised that that was just part and parcel of life here at the trenches and, well…like I said: it was either them or me,"

Wally did nod a little in agreement. In a way, Stanley was right. Having to fight and to kill was part and parcel of everyday life up here at the trenches and he had felt guilt at first when he took someone else's life, but then again he had to admit it was either that German or him. He did feel the same way, not that he was scared of death or anything but he wanted to return home alive so he could be reunited with his family, which was pretty much what everyone on both sides of the western front wanted, for this war to end so they could all go home.

If only it were that simple.

A shot shook his out of his daydream. The soldier next to Aiden growled.

"Stay still, you bastard!" he muttered under his breath as he took aim again to fire on his target across No Man's Land.

Wally shook his head and sighed. How ironic for the reality of life in the trenches to reveal itself as if it were constantly reminding him where he was and what he had to put up with now. If only it could be brought to an end, that was what everyone wanted.

Unfortunately, sadly, it was not going to be that simple.


	45. Adam returns

**Date: June 6****th**

The men in the Somme sector of the western front had woken up to another cloudy morning, only to find that the ground in No Man's Land and the wooden boards that made up the trench floor were wet. Last night, a downpour of rain had fallen on the area, turning the mud in No Man's Land to a slippery landscape that would bog down any attack that was to be launched from either side. For today, at least, both sides seemed to agree not launching an attack for they knew that it would end in a massacre.

In the British trench, Wally, Moe, Hans and Aiden were all on sentry duty, keeping their eyes fixed on No Man's Land as if they were a meerkat sentry keeping watch whilst the other soldiers went about their daily business. In the square shaped hole behind Hans, two soldiers were playing cards on the piece of cardboard that was the 'table'.

This morning, after they had eaten breakfast, Stanley had packed his things and left, telling them that their old captain was to return to take command of the squad. Whilst Hans, Moe and Aiden groaned, believing that Gomer was returning to take command, Wally knew that the real captain returning was Adam. Hopefully, he would be back in full health by now, as Eve said he was ready to be brought back into combat again.

In fact, to be truthful, the squad had actually _missed_ him. Even though they did not like him at first, his change in attitude made them warm up to him. When Gomer was in charge, they were always praying that he would return quickly since Adam was the only one Gomer was pretty much afraid of. Well, even though they, for the moment, did not have to put with Gomer and even though Stanley was a nice officer, it was still good to have someone who had been away for a long while back as part of the squad again.

As they stood with their rifles aimed out across No Man's Land, one of the soldiers in the square shaped hole behind them slammed his hand down on the 'table', a big smile on his face, and causing the four soldiers opposite them to turn and see what had happened.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. "Alright, Peter. Try and beat that!"

The soldier, who was medium height with a small black moustache, had four Kings laid out in front of him to his competitor, who was a young looking soldier of about seventeen. The soldier sighed and laid down his cards on the 'table' revealing them to be just two pairs of fours. The soldier across the 'table' from him smiled widely.

"Oh well, bad luck, Peter," he said. "But you're doing better, mate. I'm sure you'll beat me soon,"

"I hope so," Peter replied.

"Ah, don't feel so bad, Peter," Hans piped up, drawing his and the other soldier's gaze. "I've lost pretty much every card game to me' friend, Moe," he indicated to Moe with a nod. "And I'm quite a professional at cards,"

"Oh, a professional?" the soldier sitting across from Peter inquired in an impressed sort of tone. "How 'bout we have a game, mate?" he offered.

"I'd like to, but I'm supposed to be on sentry duty and if I skive off it, I'll get walloped," Hans said.

"Alright, how 'bout after yer' done on sentry duty?" the soldier asked. "You able to play then?"

"Yep, that's good,"

"That's settled then," the soldier then turned back to Peter. "What do ya' say, Peter? Another game? You might beat me this time,"

Peter just rolled his eyes and nodded as the soldier across from him set out the cards for them.

"Good luck, Peter," Hans said encouragingly. "And don't worry, if you lose, I'll beat him for you,"

"I hope you won't be skiving off your duty now," a voice said from further down the trench.

The four men looked down the trench to see a familiar person in a captain's uniform standing there. He had a backpack slung over his shoulders and a small red book was visible over the top of his chest pocket.

"Adam!" they exclaimed in unison happily. "Your back!" 

"And alive and well," he replied.

He was right. He did look a lot healthier than when the squad last saw him. He looked younger as well, probably the first time since he arrived in France.

The four walked forward and shook his hand and said they were glad to see him again. After a few minutes, Adam noticed someone was absent from the group.

"Where's Gomer?" he asked in a hopeful sort of tone.

"He was injured as well," Hans told him. "But Wally saved him, and that really surprised us," he added.

Adam laughed a little as his eyes rested on Wally.

"Oh well, at least you did good in saving someone, even if we all do hate him," he said to him. "I also hope you've been properly serving his country," he added.

At these words, Wally's smile faded in an instant from his face, which Adam did not notice. Oh no! He got the impression, and probably even thought and believed, he had finally seen the light and been killing Germans whilst he was away! Obviously it was not true, but before he could speak, Adam spoke again.

"Well, It's good to be back," he said. "I best go and get settled in again."

With that, he walked back towards the dugout whilst Hans, Moe and Aiden returned to their original positions at the trench, their day a little brighter now their old captain had returned. Wally, however, stood where he was, overcome with fear as he watched Adam disappear into the dugout. What was he to tell Adam: that he had not been killing Germans or to lie again and say he had been so he would not be enemies with him again?

Finally, Wally made up his mind and walked over to the dugout. He _was_ going to tell Adam the truth and not lie. Hopefully, he would not be too angry with him.

As Wally entered the dugout, he saw Adam sitting at the table with his backpack on it and wide open. In his hand was a piece of paper with writing on it, to which he was reading. Wally stepped into the dugout, which must have either made Adam jump or make him want to hide something because as soon as he heard Wally's footsteps, he quickly stuffed the letter back inside his backpack and turned round to see who had come into the dugout.

"Oh, It's you, Wally," he said in a bit of a relieved voice. "You alright?" he asked.

Wally nodded. "Fine," he said lowly.

"Good," Adam replied as he stood up, closed his backpack and picked it up and set it down on the floor and moved it under his bed with his foot. When he looked up, he saw Wally looking a bit down, worried even. "You alright?" he asked him, concerned.

"Well…" Wally began. "I…It's about…well. It's about me…and the fighting since you've been away,"

At this, Adam's face lit up.

"Ah, I know it, already, Wally," he said.

"Y-you do?"

"Yep, of course! I can tell that you've taken my advice and started killing them Boche,"

"Oh. Well…"

"Ah, there's no need to tell me, Wally," Adam walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You've finally started serving ya' country properly. I'm proud of you,"

He took his hand off his shoulder and sighed happily. "Well, I'm going to quickly see if Lee is still around. See ya," and with that he walked past Wally back into the trench and turned right, disappearing from sight.

When he was gone, Wally sighed in defeat and sat down on Adam's bed and buried his face in his hands for a second before resting his head on them. This was not good at all. He had tried to tell Adam the truth about him and the fighting whilst he was away and he still believed that Wally had been killing Germans. He was going to have to admit it to Adam, but he was worried of two things: one was that Adam would probably still believe he had been killing Germans whilst he away, and two, he was that he was worried that Adam would be mad with him and start hating him again.

Eventually, he would admit it, and he would just have to hope for the best.


	46. A shell shocked soldier

**Six days later**

For Wally, the past few days had been hard. When Adam had returned to the front, he had gotten the impression that Wally had been killing Germans or 'properly serving his country' as he had put it. Wally had tried to explain the truth to him but Adam had gone off somewhere else before he could, and the past few days had been no better. He had tried to talk to him but Adam was either doing something when he got the chance or he got dragged into something. In fact, there was even one time a few days ago when Wally had managed to talk with Adam when they were both free and even when he told him the truth, Adam just still thought he was faking it and laughed it off.

This had made Wally just about give up with trying to explain the truth to him. He was just going to have to put his faith on explaining to Adam when the Germans next attacked, which had not happened over the past six days, and, hopefully, he would take it too hard.

Well, that was easier said than done.

Today was like any other normal day for the soldiers on the frontline. They were mooching around, either on sentry duty, staring across No Man's Land like a few statues, or were sitting in the dugouts or in any small holes along the side of the trenches reading or playing cards. The weather was the same as well. A dull and grey cloudy day with no wind. If it had not been for the fact the men were in a war, it would have looked like a boring scene.

Wally was sitting in the square shaped hole, reading his _Oliver Twist _book, with Aiden sitting across from him with his head leaned against the wooden wall of the square shaped hole's wall, staring up at the ceiling as if he was in a trance. Hans had been taken from the line yesterday for helping the soldiers behind the line offload a trainload of supplies. Moe was asleep having been on sentry duty for most of last night and Adam was in the dugout as well.

Adam being in the dugout had really concerned Wally as well. In fact for the past few days, he had been spending more time in the dugout, going through that same piece of paper, sometime with a pen in his hand. What was it he was going over? Nobody else knew because whenever Adam heard someone else come into the dugout, he would quickly stuff the paper back inside his backpack and put it under his bed. Wally had even asked him, after failing again to try and tell him the truth that he had not been killing Germans whilst Adam was away, what the letter was and Adam quickly left the dugout, again saying to Wally that he had wished in good luck in continuing to serve his country.

In the machine gun nest further down the trench, two soldiers were sitting in it, lying against the wall of sandbags that made up the wall of the nest facing No Man's Land. One of them was looking through a pair of binoculars across No Man's Land whilst his friend just sat there, staring blankly across at the trench wall opposite the nest as if he were in a trance.

"Mmmm!" his friend said, lowering his binoculars. "Nothing yet! The Huns seem to be relaxing,"

"You 'aven't seen anything at all?" his friend asked, not looking at him.

"Well, a few helmet tops moving about but nothing like 'em preparing for an attack or anything like that,"

"Must be giving us some peace today,"

The soldier with the binoculars nodded in agreement and resumed only looking through them back across No Man's Land. This time, however, all the silver helmet tops he saw moving about were gone. Where had the Germans in the trench gone?

_WHOOSH! _BOOM! _WHOOSH! _BOOM!

Two shells exploded on the ground between the trench sections just opposite the machine gun nest. Another followed in one of the trench sections that led to the rear trenches, followed by a scream.

"GET DOWN!" an officer somewhere up the trench screamed.

Wally and Aiden, who had been shaken out of his trance by the sudden explosions, threw themselves against the back wall of the square shaped hole. A shell exploded on the ground above them just a few feet away, making a bit of dirt fall onto them. BOOM! Another shell exploded further down the trench, followed by a scream and someone shouting "Stretcher bearers!"

"JOEY! COME BACK!"

Wally, keeping his head low, looked out of the hole to his right and saw a soldier run from the machine gun nest. Another soldier, with a pair of binoculars in his hand, ran after the soldier, shouting for him to come back.

Suddenly, as the first soldier who ran out of the machine gun nest, grabbed the soldier and began pushing him back towards the machine gun nest.

"Get back there, you bastard!" he shouted.

The soldier struggled in his grip, whimpering and crying "No! I must get away! Please, I must get away!" to which the officer finally restrained him by punching him in the face and, seizing the chance pushing the soldier back towards the machine gun nest, yelling at the other soldier to get back there as well.

Wally could not believe this! This soldier was obviously shell shocked and yet he was being forced to stay. Without thinking, he got up and ran down the trench.

"What are you doing?" he shouted to the officer as another shell burst a few metres away before the barrage finally ended.

"Making sure he don't bloody leave the frontline!" the officer shouted back, his face turning red from anger and frustration. "Now get back into cover, you berk, or I'll whack ya'!"

And with that, the officer pushed past ally, almost knocking him over, and threw the soldier back into the machine gun nest.

"Now you stay there!" he hissed. "You try and leg it again and I'll blast you!" he turned to Wally. "I thought I told ya' to get back to cover!" he said.

"B-but what about him?" Wally asked, stammering, as he pointed at the soldier, who was being restrained by his friend, as he whimpered and starting mumbling "I must get away! I must get away!"

"He's shell shocked, I can't do anything for 'im," the officer replied. "Now I'm not gonna tell ya' again. Get back into…wherever you were or I'll have you court marshalled."

Wally stood there, staring at the officer in disbelief for a second, before he sighed in defeat and turned and walked back to the square shaped hole. The officer 'humphed' in victory as if to say 'That's what I thought!' and he walked into the section of the trench that led to the rear trenches.

As Wally slumped down into the hole, Aiden, who had resumed his original position of staring blankly up at the wooden ceiling of the hole, looked at him.

"You should have left him," he said. "He's hopeless,"

Wally just stared at him, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"What do you mea-He's sick! I-I can't believe you!" he stammered in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, the officer won't give a damn, and they never do!" Aiden replied lowly. "You're getting to believe we'll all respect each other here, well that's not bloody true!"

Wally sighed and buried his face in his hands. This was terrible. A fellow soldier was shell shocked, something very horrible and mentally affecting to have, and still he was being forced to stay at the front.

This war was not right at all. In fact, it was starting to no longer look like a war, more like a conflict in which men were being forced to stay at the frontline, even if they were ill or injured.

This had to end soon, and, hopefully, it would.


	47. The German offensive

**Date: June 25****th**

_WHOOSH! _BOOM! _WHOOSH! _BOOM!

In the trench, the squad was lined up, crouched, against the right wall of the trench, with themselves pressed against the wood and metal. An explosion in No Man's Land every so often would throw a cloud of dirt and mud into the air, only to shower the men in the trench with it. It was a barrage to soften up the trenches before an attack, though this barrage had been going on for most of the week. If it went on for that long, then this barrage was the prelude to one thing: an offensive. And that was not good, not at all.

Wally, who was crouched near the machine gun nest, with Adam in front of him and Moe behind him, shifted a little and looked up at the sky, clutching his rifle in his hand tightly as if he were looking to God and praying for him to end this barrage. It was really starting to get to him, just like what happened two weeks ago.

The shell shocked soldier he had seen almost two weeks ago had really affected him, and it had only made him worse when the shell shocked soldier had fled again during another barrage and had been injured by shrapnel. The officer who had stopped the soldier from leaving ordered him to be taken to the medical station in the rear trenches but had not ordered any medical personal to him, so the soldier was left there for four hours until he finally died, and they had had a big effect on Wally. The soldier's moans and groans of pain had haunted him for a few nights, giving him nightmares. It was horrible, and the sad thing was this was daily life at the front. Men were being left to die when they were beyond help.

_If only this would end _is what everyone was thinking. They did not want to be here, but if they left then they would be known as cowards and the Military Police would be catching them and executing them for desertion and even if they did manage to get back safely to Britain, the public would waste no time in calling them 'deserters' and 'a disgrace to King and country' and reporting them to the military, which would most likely end up with them being executed anyway.

Either way, leaving or staying at the trenches would result in death for them. Wally knew of this, and he really did not want to admit this, but maybe it _was_ best if he stayed in the trenches. It was a hard thing to believe and he really did not want to, but he knew that if he went home, his dad would kill him and he would have disgraced himself and his family and his country.

He would just have to hope the war ended soon, but by the way it was going at the moment that hope looked to be very far away from becoming a reality.

BOOM! The explosion of a shell a few metres away in No Man's Land shook Wally out of his thoughts and brought him back to reality. He found himself staring back at Adam's back again. Then, as if reminded he was there, a thought came into his mind. The two were finally free. It was now or never, he would have to tell him the truth either now or he would never get to.

Leaning forward a little, Wally tapped Adam on the shoulder.

"Um, Adam?" he asked.

Adam turned to face him.

"What is it?" he asked, he and Wally ducking slightly as another shell exploded in No Man's Land.

"It's…It's about…" he began, though he quickly trailed off as he found it more difficult to explain than he thought.

"What?" Adam asked.

"About…" Wally took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. "It's about me whilst you were away. I-I didn't and still haven't killed any Germans,"

He closed his eyes tightly and waited for Adam to explode.

However, to his surprise, Adam just smiled. "Haha!" he said. "Good one, Wally, my son!" he added, patting Wally on the shoulder. "I never knew you were funny,"

"No…, I'm being serious, Adam," he said. "I haven't killed anyone since you were away,"

Adam just smiled again, but Wally shook his head. "No, I'm being serious," he repeated.

This time, Adam's smile fell from his face and he stared at Wally with shocked filled eyes. What! H-he had not served his country properly whilst he was away? No. No this had to be a joke. Adam tried to see it that way but Wally's eyes told him everything. It _was_ true; he had not killed anyone whilst he was away.

Adam went to speak but it was then the barrage came to an end and a whistle sounded from further down the trench.

"Stand to!" an officer shouted.

The men in the trench stood up and aimed their rifles out across No Man's Land. Adam stepped back to allow a soldier to take his place but he kept his eyes on Wally as if they were stuck that way. He could not accept the fact that Wally had not killed any Germans whilst he had been at the front. He could not believe it, he had put faith in him and hoped he would start serving his country properly! He really was a coward.

It was as if Wally could hear Adam's thoughts about him, but he dared not to look over his shoulder at him. It was as if he could feel the very anger radiating from him. The thing he feared that would come out of this had happened. Adam was angry with him, but at least he would not have to face his wrath until after the attack by the Germans.

If he lived through it that was.

Suddenly, the officer up the trench blew his whistle again.

"Load your weapons!" he ordered. The men did so.

_WHOOSH! _BOOM! An explosion erupted nearby, followed by a scream. That was a mortar, and it had claimed the life of another soldier gone. Another mortar flew overhead and exploded on the ground between the sections of the rear trenches. Thankfully, though, no one was injured.

"Here they come!" a soldier further down the trench shouted.

He was right. All of a sudden, a wave of men dressed in grey uniforms seemed to rise up from the ground and charge towards their trench. There must have been at least two hundred of them. At once, every man in the British trench open fired on the approaching Germans. Wally sighed, knowing now that Adam knew he was not going to be firing _at _them, only _near _them, and raised his rifle and fired at the Germans, making sure he aimed at the ground. Many of them were falling from the bullets fired by the British but the wave just charged on like a determined army wanting to defeat their enemy once and for all.

It was when the Germans were about forty feet from the trench that the British officers began to panic.

"Fall back!" one of them shouted. "Get to the rear trenches, quickly!"

The men obeyed and there was a mad rush to get to the rear trenches. Wally went to run but saw Adam run past him, glaring at him before he ran into the section of trench that led to the rear trenches and disappeared. Wow, he must be very angry with him. Oh, he would have to deal with that later. Right now, he had to get out of here. Wally followed Hans and Moe towards the section of trench.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!" 

Wally shot round to see Aiden fall to the trench floor, blood pouring from a wound on his shoulder. Oh my God, he had been shot! He lay on the floor, yelling in pain as he grabbed his shoulder to try and stop the flow of blood.

"Oi you, move it!" a soldier behind Wally shouted at him.

"But what about Aiden?" Wally shouted back.

"Leave 'im,"

_No! I'm not going to leave him! I'm going to save him! _Wally mentally said to himself as he ran back to Aiden, ignoring the soldier's shouts for him to leave him.

"Ah, bugger you then!" Wally heard the soldier growl.

When he reached Aiden, he grabbed him and, with all his strength, lifted him off the ground and placed him on his shoulders. Aiden was heavier than when Wally had carried Robert earlier on in the year, but that was not going to stop Wally leaving him. He was his friend, and he would risk his own life to save his if necessary.

Staggering forward, Wally moved to the section of trench that led to the rear trenches. He could hear the officers of the British shouting orders to the troops ahead of him and the yells and cries of the Germans behind him. Oh God, the noise was awful, but he tried to block it out of his mind. He had to get back there, and fast!

Suddenly, as Wally reached, and entered, the section of the trench he wanted to, a loud thud erupted behind him. He looked round and saw a huge heavily built German soldier standing there with his rifle lowered and the bayonet aimed at him. He charged forward towards him, shouting something German. Wally yelled out and fell backwards dropping Aiden, who swore loudly as the German came towards them. It looked like they were goners.

Suddenly, as the German was about to stab his bayonet into them, another bayonet shot over Wally and Aiden's heads and stabbed the German in the chest. The German cried out and staggered backwards into the machine gun nest, falling over and dropping his weapon as he did. He lay there, gasping for breath for a few seconds before he went quiet and moved no more.

"Alright, get up!" a voice said, grabbing Wally and pulling him to his feet.

It was the soldier who had told him to leave Aiden. His rifle's bayonet was now dark red and dripping blood. By the looks of it, he must have penetrated deep into the German soldier's chest to kill him.

"I told you ta' leave 'im, mate!" he said. Wally went to reply, but a shout of something in German came from the machine gun nest. Both soldiers looked and saw the rest of the German wave had reached the trench. "Alright, get him out of here! I'll cover you!"

Wally nodded and picked up Aiden and staggered with him down the section of trench whilst the soldier, walking backwards as he fired individual shots from his rifle at the Germans, followed. When they reached the end of the section of the trench, Wally set Aiden down on the trench floor, leaning him against the trench wall. A medic ran over to check the wound.

"It's very deep," he said as he examined it. He touched it with his finger and Aiden gasped in pain. "He'll have to go to the hospital," the medic said as he stood up and turned to Wally. "You did a good job bringing him 'ere, lad," he added.

Wally nodded. The sounds of gunfire around him made him jump. Looking around, he saw the British soldiers that had managed to retreat, fire on the German forces, who returned fire. The soldier that had saved Wally and Aiden stumbled backwards into the trench. Growling, he stood up and fired a shot at the Germans, killing one of them.

"They're not giving up easily, sir," he said to a nearby officer.

"Men, hold them!" the officer shouted. He turned and saw Wally watching the battle. He grabbed him by the neck of his uniform and pushed him towards the Germans as if he was a sacrifice. "C'mon, you berk, help us!"

Wally sighed sadly and turned and aimed his riffle at the Germans, though he fired at the side of the trenches, trying his best not to hit one of the Germans. However, not even a second passed before a hand grabbed him by his shoulder. Turning his head, Wally saw it was Adam. He did not look at all pleased. In fact, he looked furious.

"Actually hit them, you bastard!" he hissed.

"N-no," Wally replied, stammering out of fear. Adam's eyes went wide. Did he just disobey him?

"What did you say?" he hissed dangerously.

"I said n-AAAAAHHHHH!"

All of a sudden, Wally fell to the trench floor, blood dripping down his arm. As he turned over, he saw a bullet wound on his shoulder. He had been shot! Adam did nothing, he just stepped back, staring at him with wide eyes as if something he had never witnessed before had just happened.

"Alright, get 'em both out of here," the medic ordered.

Two pairs of stretcher bearers came down the trench. One picked up Aiden and set him on the stretcher; the other picked up Wally and set him on their stretcher. They then carried them off down the trench.

As they passed a British soldier standing on top of a piece of fallen wood, he suddenly fell backwards against the trench wall behind him. A bullet hole was just visible in his chest and he laid there, his eyes closed. He was dead. He was lucky though, for he had been killed instantly rather than having to die a slow and painful death like many soldier here had.

The stretcher bearers turned a corner in the trench and disappeared. Within a few moments the sounds of the battle had faded away behind them. For now, Wally and Aiden were safe. They were away from the war and all It's suffering it was causing.


	48. Telling Eve of recent events

**Later that night**

The day had been very busy for the hospital and the medical soldiers delivering the wounded to the hospital from the frontline. It was reported the Germans had launched a full out offensive against the British frontline and both sides had claimed many casualties, at least three hundred British soldiers had been killed and nearly as many lives had been claimed from the German side. It was terrible. Luckily, the British defences had held and they were able to drive the Germans back to their own lines, but it was not to be the last they would hear from them. There was no doubt they would resume the attack tomorrow.

It had been hard for some of the soldiers that were well enough to help with the wounded as well. Wally, whose wound had been patched up, and a few others who were well enough to help out at the hospital had been busy helping take in wounded, and unfortunately, remove those whose part in the war had ended, and there had been many of them today. The worst had been someone who had been ripped open by shrapnel. God, he looked horrible, like as if he had been ripped apart by a predator and left to die. Even at night, it was still busy and more men were being brought in from the fighting.

It was now about 11 o'clock and things had started to wind down a little. A few wounded were still coming in but the fighting was starting to come to an end as well. Both sides seemed to be settling down for the night after the hard day of fighting. Both sides would just have to hope neither launched a barrage that would keep the other awake for the night.

Just outside the hospital, Wally and Eve were washing their hands to be rid of the blood from the wounded and the dead they had been working on for most of the day. Both had been silent as if it were forming a hard wall around them.

When they were done washing their hands, they began using a dirty and torn old towel to dry their hands. When Wally was done, he moved down his sleeve to reveal the bandages around his shoulder. It had turned out the bullet had not penetrated too deep, or even gone straight through, his shoulder and Eve had managed to pull it out. He had been given morphine, but even then it still hurt, but at least not as much.

Moving his sleeve down further, the bandages on the front of his shoulder were revealed to be blood stained.

"Does it look like It's still bleeding?" Eve asked him.

"No, it's stopped," Wally replied, pulling his sleeve back up.

"Are you alright, Wally?"

Wally shook his head a little. "No. Adam's pissed off with me again."

"Why? I thought you were happy to hear that he was coming back to the frontline again."

"I _was_. But when he returned he got the impression that I had finally started killing for my country, which he called _'properly serving my country'_. I-I tried to admit to him the truth, Eve, but I was worried,"

"About what?"

"About him being really angry with me. I mean, we were getting on quite well before he got wounded and left the frontline for a bit. I tried explaining it to him over the days after he'd returned, but I never got the chance to. Eventually, earlier today, I managed to tell him…"

"…. And he was mad with you," Eve finished the sentence.

Wally nodded. "Yep,"

Eve sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sure he's just…well, annoyed that you having been doing what he least expected whilst he was gone, Wally," she said. "I'm sure he'll get over it in a few weeks,"

"I really doubt it, Eve," Wally replied. "It'll stick with him like when I first arrived at the front. As soon as he saw that I couldn't kill, he hated me. When we started getting along, I thought all that was over, but…" he let out a weak laugh. "…It's no use now."

Eve could not help but feel sorry for him. It was just the fact that Wally could not kill anyone, even if that person was going to kill him. He would risk his life to save others, but he just could not inflict any harm on anyone, no matter what they were going to do to him. It was just unfortunate that Adam did not see it that way. To him, Wally was just a coward who did not want to fight. Well, he got the last part right. No one else wanted to fight the Germans in this hopeless war, and their enemy was pretty much feeling the same way.

"I can just only hope things turn out for the better for you," Eve said to him.

Wally nodded in reply. "I hope so too," he sighed. "I'm gonna climb in, Eve and try and get some sleep and get my head straight."

Eve nodded and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and a hug before walking back into the hospital through an open door that was a side entrance to the building.

Eve sighed again. She felt so sorry for him. He had suffered quite a lot since he had arrived. He had seen a lot of death, and only narrowly escaped it a few times, had been picked on by two officers and now he seemed to be against one of them again. Hopefully, things would turn out better, or his life here would just go downhill further.


	49. One man short

**Date: July 2****nd**

Today was another bright day for the western front, and what was more there was virtually no breeze blowing in the air and it was quite hot. Most men in the trenches had decided not to wear their uniform coats as required but the officers did not really mind. In fact, they too had decided not to wear their coats. It was amazing to see that these men had wanted warmth during the cold winter they had suffered earlier this year and now they had gotten it, though probably a bit more intense than they had expected, or wanted.

For Wally, it was the day he was being taken back to the front. He had eaten his breakfast and said goodbye to Eve, giving her a passionate kiss and hug just before leaving, though a few men nearby let out a few wolf whistles at seeing the two kiss, and now the truck he was in was heading for a small village where his teammates would be on their day of relief from the trenches. He smiled to himself as he looked down at the floor of the truck. He was glad he was going back to them. He really missed his friends, and they would all be there, including Aiden who had been reported fit enough to go back to the frontline three days ago.

THUD! The truck jolted slightly as it drove into a field and the back wheel went into a small hole. Wally held onto the bottom of his seat to prevent himself from falling over. He was thinking about what was lying in store for him and his friends in the coming future. He regretted thinking about this, but he was worried whether any of his friends live through the rest of this year to see Christmas. Well, would they, or would he? That was what he feared, but could not answer and would have to wait and see what fate was to do with him.

A few moments later, the truck began to slow down as it came out of the field back onto a small road. Ahead of it were a few buildings that had been cottages and huts but, like most of the settlements either side of the western front, it had been almost completely reduced to rubble by shelling. Another place that had been perceived as beautiful and naturally wonderful was now reduced to a warzone almost like No Man's Land at the trenches. The only good things about a destroyed village, especially on the western front, was that there was no mud to slow down an attack and that soldiers would have a better chance of getting out. If this village had been in No Man's Land, any soldier injured or killed had virtually no chance of being recovered, even by the opposite side.

The truck came to a halt outside the remains of a destroyed hut. The roof had been blown in by a shell and the wood that made up the roof was now splintered and broken. Three of the walls of the hut had been blown apart as well, one to the point of being completely destroyed. The front door of the hut lay on the ground, broken in two. The windows at the front, two on the ground floor either side of the front door and one on the floor above the door, of the hut had been blown apart as well, their glass shattered completely by the explosion that had destroyed the hut. The glass from the windows lay scattered on the ground, some covered with blood from where an injured British soldier had fallen onto the glass. The fact was no one was going to bother cleaning this up to prevent any further injuries for two reasons. One: it was, in this case, not the army's job to clear away any hazards from 'little things', and two: there was no point because within a few days, or even a few hours, of the mess being cleared away it would be replaced with an even bigger mess from another shell. Some just thought it was best left as it was.

The truck driver, a tall Irishman, got out and walked to the back of the truck.

"'Ere's ya stop, mate," he said to Wally, who got up and jumped down from the truck to the ground.

"Thanks," he replied to the driver and he walked towards the hut, peeking his head through where the front door had been to reveal a shattered front room.

The ceiling had a huge hole in it from where the shell had exploded on contact with the floor above, more glass and wood was scattered across the floor and a few wooden tables and chairs had been overturned or broken. A flight of stairs leading up to the floor above at the far left of the front room had a huge hole in them about half-way up the flight. Either a mortar or a grenade had done that. A shell would have blown the stairs to smithereens.

"Wonder where the others are?" Wally asked himself as he stepped into the room.

"Wally?" a voice asked from behind.

Wally turned to see a soldier standing there. He smiled. It was Hans.

"Hey, Hans," Wally said, shaking his friend's hand.

"I'm glad your back," he replied. "C'mon, everyone else is around the back,"

Wally followed Hans around the side of the building to the back where two other soldiers, who were in the middle of a cards game, were sitting. It was Moe and a familiar face.

"Captain Stanley!" Wally exclaimed, smiling.

"Hey, Wally," he replied, getting up and shaking Wally's hand. "How you feeling?"

"Fine. A lot better now,"

"Good,"

"What are doing here, I thought you left,"

"I did, but I'm with another regiment not far from where you lot are stationed in the trenches. And seeing as we were relieved from the front today as well, I decided to

Stanley sat back down next to Moe and picked up his five cards. Wally and Hans sat down with them.

"It's been a bit different without you here, Wally," Moe said to him as he picked up another card. "Adam's been as grumpy as ever and me and Hans didn't really get a lot of time to talk to Aiden."

At the mention of his name, Wally's happiness was dampened a little. Adam. He had forgotten about him. The memories of what had happened before he had been sent to the hospital overwhelmed him like a flood. He sighed sadly. Knowing he was going to have to face him again, when he returned. Thank God he was not here now.

"Where is Adam?" Wally asked.

"He's had to attend to some other business, again," Moe answered. He then threw his cards down on the ground. "Ha! Three tens, Stanley! Try and beat that,"

"Okay," Stanley replied, and he lowered his cards, revealing a four, five, six, seven and eight with hearts on them. A 'Flash of Hearts' he had used.

Moe's face fell. Hans, Stanley and Wally laughed at him.

"You've haven't beaten me yet," Stanley reminded him, making Moe sigh and nod in defeat but he chuckled along with everyone else.

"I will beat you eventually," he said.

"Yeah, but not for a long time, Moe me boy," Stanley replied.

Wally chuckled again and it was then he noticed that, other than Adam, someone else was missing from the group.

"Hey guys, where's Aiden?" he asked.

At these words, Moe and Hans exchanged sad glances. Hans sighed and tried to say something but the words got lost in his mouth. Wally noticed this and upon seeing the looks on their faces, he knew what had happened to Aiden.

"When was it?" he asked.

"Last night before you arrived," Moe answered.

Wally nodded, taking in what his friend had told him. So it had not been that long ago.

"Was it quick?"

Moe shook his head. "No, he took shrapnel to the stomach during one of trench raids on the German trenches. A mortar burst in front of him and we couldn't get 'im back to the trenches. He lasted four hours, groaning, before he died,"

Wally nodded again and sighed, filled with sorrow over the death of one of his friends. He had gone through the same pain with Robert during the offensive earlier this year and now it had come back again, only this time it was more effective because Aiden had died a long and painful death, something he did not deserve, that no one deserved.

After a few moments of silence between the group, Moe broke the ice.

"Let's start another game," he said and he began setting out the cards again between him and Stanley.

Wally was lost in thought over what would come now that Aiden was gone. Their squad was one man short, and he wondered who would be replacing Aiden.


	50. An arguement

**Date: July 10****th**

The beautiful and sunny weather that seemed to hang over the Western Front for the past few weeks had suddenly come to an end when it began to rain a few days ago. The mud in No Man's Land was made more of a sludge that made travelling across it virtually impossible. Then, in the days following the rain, the weather had been constantly changing from good to bad and vice versa. Both sides had rarely launched an attack on the other since then for in fear that an attack would be bogged down before it would even get anywhere near the opposing sides lines. They would just have to wait until the weather brightened up again.

In the trenches around the Somme, life was still going on as normal for the soldiers. It was dull and cloudy above the trenches, indicating that it might start raining again later on. However, neither side would want to give up just because of a little rain, and the other side knew it for it would take more than the weather to kick one side out of their fortifications.

In the British trenches near Thiepval, several soldiers were lined up on sentry duty, Moe among them. In the machine gun nest, two soldiers were sitting on the ground with their backs resting against the sandbag wall behind them. One of them was reading, the other was sleeping.

"Stay awake there, soldier!" an officer barked in an annoyed tone, jumping the soldier sleeping right out of his sleep.

It was Adam. He was walking up and down the trench making sure the soldiers were staying awake and not drifting off or daydreaming, but it was not hard to tell that he was in a bit of a bad mood for last night, Wally, as he put it, had been a coward again because he could not kill a German that had used the cover of darkness to sneak across No man's Land and spy on the British trenches. Wally had seen him but had not fired on him and instead tried signalling the German to go back to his trenches. His attempts had failed and also attracted the attention of Adam, who had seen the German and, after breaking into a fury, dashed down the trench, wrenched the rifle from Wally's hand and killed the German spy. Afterwards, he had called Wally a coward and dragged him back to the dugout.

When Adam had woken up, he had glared at Wally's sleeping form and mentally said to himself _I wish I could change him or I'll end up killing him_, making it obvious he was still annoyed about last night, but also for when Wally told him that he had not been killing Germans, or 'properly serving his country' as Adam put it, whilst he was away.Moe and Hans, who had seen Adam glare at Wally when he had woken up, began to get a bit nervous and were fearing what would happen next.

Adam walked down the trench, causing all of the soldiers he passed to sweat a little. It was obvious they were nervous and with Adam in this bad mood, he was likely to throttle any one of them if they annoyed him. Luckily, he did not say or do anything and just walked on to the end and then turned and walked back down towards the dugout as if he were some kind of prison guard patrolling along the cells.

As he reached the dugout entrance, Hans emerged and yawned loudly.

"Morning, sir," he said.

Adam did not reply but instead walked past him into the dugout.

_Oh, good morning to you _Hans thought as he rolled his eyes and walked on down the trench towards Moe, who turned to face him.

"Hey, Hans," he said.

"Hi," he replied. "Adam still in a bad mood?"

"Yep. I think what happened last night really pissed him off,"

Hans nodded in agreement and looked on hopelessly at the dugout entrance. With Wally still asleep in there, in fact he was starting to stir a little just as Hans left, Adam was most likely going to shout at him for what happened last night. He sighed and shook his head. If this carried on, then there would never be peace in the squad.

Shaking his head again, he and Moe looked back out across No Man's Land for any sign of German activity.

Inside the dugout, Wally stirred a little as he rolled over in his bed before he sat up and rubbed his eyes and gazed around the dugout as if he were a new born creature gazing at his surroundings after being born. Then, his eyes rested on Adam, who was sitting on his bed with his backpack on his lap, glaring at him. He had been reading something but was disturbed by Wally waking up, but he was still angry about last night so that only added to his anger at the moment.

"You're awake," he said in a voice that sounded as if he did not want Wally to wake up.

Wally looked down at the floor, feeling a little guilty for what happened. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry for what happened last night,"

Adam faked a laugh and chucked his backpack under his bed and got up and walked over to Wally, who got up from his bed in case something was going to happen. As Adam came closer, he began to nervous. With the angry look on Adam's face and the fact that he was in a bad mood, he was thinking Adam was going to throttle him for last night. Thankfully, he stopped just in front of him but kept his fists clenched, which only made Wally more nervous.

"You know, I never thought I would see a coward like you on the frontline," he said to Wally. "If you really think about all that you've done since I first met you, you've done nothing but bring shame onto us and your country."

Wally ignored him, trying to stay strong, but Adam's words were cutting through him like a knife. He looked down at the floor and tried to hold back tears, which he felt more as Adam went on.

"When I got back from being injured, I really had faith in you, Wally," he continued. "I thought you would actually start proving yourself to all the other soldiers and your country and bring your family honour. But no, instead you're not willing to kill people who have invaded a country that was neutral,"

"Stop it!" Wally whispered, but Adam pressed on.

"You know, I wonder what your father would say if he saw you right now. And if he knew that you had not killed a single German since you've arrived here because you're too damn scared to do so!"

"I said: stop it!" Wally repeated his voice rising.

"No, I won't stop it. I'm pointing out a fact to you, Wally. You are nothing but a coward and a disgrace to your country. God help you if your father saw you now. I wouldn't be surprised if he hit you or told you that you are a disgrace to him and your family-"

"STOP IT!" Wally yelled at Adam, making him flinch a little. "You don't know what It's like!"

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Adam asked him angrily.

"You've been in the army longer than me!" Wally said to him, wiping his eyes dry. "You've killed people before I did and you're used to it. I'm not! I can't kill someone because I know I won't be able to forgive myself! And I don't know why you're getting so uptight about this, Adam. Before you left, you and I were good friends, and now...you're starting to repeat what you were like to me before you left! Why do you hate me? Is it because I'm a coward? Because if it is, then I'll admit to you! Yes: I am scared! I can't kill anyone and I won't ever be able to!" he took a deep breath to calm down. When he did, he looked back up at Adam. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really thought you and me would get along much better now. I guess I was wrong," and with that, Wally walked past Adam back outside.

Adam stared at the dugout entrance for a moment before he sighed and walked over to his bed and sat down. He got carried away with himself. I mean, sure he was admitting what he felt but, maybe be put it on a little too hard. He had really upset Wally, and in a way Wally was right. Adam had been in the military longer than he had and had killed people before Wally arrived and so he was, therefore, used to it. Wally was still young and he was not used to it.

He sighed again. He was going to have to apologize to him, but not now. He should give Wally some time to pull himself together.


	51. Meeting two horses

**July 15th**

Many soldiers had meant to be returned to the frontline today, but last night a rainstorm had hit the area and had turned the ground to a slippery mud land. It was difficult for men to move across it to the trenches, let alone leave them so command had ordered all units that were meant to return for the trenches today to wait another twenty four hours until the mud dried. They were pleased about this, but those that were in the trenches and were to leave today were not happy as they now had to wait longer until they could get out of the hell hole and away from the threat of being killed. Until then, they would just have to hope that they were not unfortunate enough to be involved in a shelling attack or another attack by the Germans, the second fear being less likely than the first as No Man's Land had been turned into another sea of mud that would bog down any attack either side launched.

Several squads of soldiers, however, had been lucky they were withdrawn before the rainstorm hit last night. The squad was among them as they had been withdrawn from the line the day before and were now resting in a small village with a public stables, or what was left of it as it, along with much of the village, had been destroyed by shelling from the German side of the frontline.

Even though much of the village was destroyed, there were a few things still left standing, though not with partial damage. One of these things was a small hut that It's owners had abandoned earlier on last year when the village had been on the verge of being occupied by the German Army. Now, under control of the British, it was a good place for men off the frontline to relax at, plus the village was hardly shelled anymore so that made it even more of a safe haven. Inside the hut were several groups of soldiers, including Wally's squad. Behind the hut were the stables. There were a few horses inside them, belonging to the British cavalry regiment operating in this area.

"I'm going to have a look around," came Wally's voice from inside the hut.

"Don't wonder off then, Wally," came another voice's reply. It was Stanley, who was here as well. "Otherwise command'll have you,"

Wally, who was at the front entrance, or what had been the front entrance, of the hut, nodded and walked out onto the wide cobbled road. It was covered with many craters, both large and small from where shells had landed in the bombardments that had taken place a few months earlier. He walked down the road, gazing around at the village remains.

To his right was what had been the village pub. It was a large hut-like wooden building that resembled an old sixteenth century house. A few tables had been outside the pub for where drinkers and lovers would sit and enjoy themselves. Now, however, those tables were nothing but splinters, as was the pub, which had a large portion of It's middle gone from where a large shell had hit it. The left side of the pub had been blown off by another shell, leaving only the front wall facing the cobbled road. A fence that had come out of the right side of the pub and then turned left and carried on behind it, possibly to another area filled with tables, which were most likely destroyed like those at the front of the pub, was broken in several places. Large gaping holes separated one section from another. All the windows and the front door had been smashed to pieces and the pub's stone chimney lay scattered on the ground next to it.

Wally sighed at seeing this pub and looked around him. The road carried on both left and right, but it was covered with craters from past shell explosions and the buildings on the sides of the roads were nothing but rubble. Everywhere he looked was devastation! It was getting to be too much. This village had probably once been a paradise but was now turned into a warzone by a war that was going nowhere.

Wally turned left and walked down the cobbled road. He passed a corner shop that had It's front windows smashed by a shell. The remains of the building's roof and chimney lay scattered about on the ground in front of him. Next door to it was another hut that had been almost completely eviscerated, save for two sections of wall at the back of the building and a stairwell on the right side of the building, which was destroyed about ten feet up from the ground.

"Right, where are those bloody grains?" he heard a soldier's voice say in a frustrated manner.

Wally looked over at the stables. They were two small rectangular buildings with several pens for the horses. A burley looking soldier in green army uniform trousers, a white vest and had his jacket tied around his waist, walked out of the stable and began looking around near the side of the stables for what he was looking for.

_Maybe I'll go have a look at the horses _Wally thought and he began to walk over towards the stables.

After stepping over the remains of what had been the remaining possessions left by the house owners, he walked across the back garden, which had a small shell hole in it near the next door neighbour's fence, to the stables. As he reached the stables, the soldier looked up and saw him.

"Oh, hello mate," he greeted. "Need any help?"

"No, I'm alright," Wally replied. "I just thought, if it's alright with you, I might have a look at the horses,"

"By all means, mate," the soldier told him.

Wally nodded to say thanks and walked into the stable. There, in two of the pens, were two horses, one to each pen. One of them was black with whiteness around the hooves and a tiny white strip running from the forehead of the horse down to the snout. The one next to it was brown with whiteness around the hooves and, like It's friend next to it, had a thin strip of white running from the forehead down to the snout, though it was a little wider than the other horse. Both horses had saddles on them and they had their reins tied to the wooden posts of their pens.

Wally admired their beauty. Looking at them reminded him of the horses back at home on the farm. He walked over the black horse and stroked the front of it. The horse snorted and licked Wally's hand, which he grimaced at and rubbed the animal's saliva off on his coat.

"Beauty, ain't he?" the soldier said, making him jump, as he walked into the stable holding a bag of oats, which he had found among several bags of hay for the horse pens.

"Yeah, he is," Wally replied. He looked at all the other empty pens. "Where are all the other horses?" he asked.

The soldier set down the bag of oats on the floor next to him. "Command took 'em out for a practice run at a cavalry charge," he told him. "Two of the recruits meant to be on these two got killed yesterday by a shell so they had to leave 'em here,"

Wally nodded and looked back at the horses, taking in their beauty once again. The soldier, who had bent down to pick up some oats from the bag, walked over to the black horse and placed his hand under the animal's mouth. The horse scooped up the oats with It's tongue and began to crunch loudly as it ate them.

"So where did you get them?" Wally asked.

"This one," the soldier replied, patting the horse's snout. "We've had him the army for about a year. The other one-" he pointed to the next horse. "We got 'im earlier on this year. You can come and feed 'em if you want,"

"Okay," Wally scooped up a handful of oats in his hand and walked over to the brown horse and held his hand under the animal's mouth and it began to lick them up and crunch loudly.

"What are their names?" Wally asked.

"This one here's Topthorn," the soldier answered, patting the horse's snout. "That one, we don't know his name. We actually got him from when the Germans attacked us with their cavalry last year when they were legging it back towards their lines. We attacked a group of 'em and killed the Hun riding him. He had been ridden by our old Captain Nicholls before he got shot last November. Now, he's used for training,"

"Wow," Wally replied, looking at the horse. "Been through a lot,"

"Yeah, he has,"

"Wally!" a voice called from outside.

The two looked over towards the stable entrance and saw someone enter. It was Stanley.

"Oh there you are," he said when he saw Wally. "Sorry, mate. He hasn't been disturbing ya, as he?"

"No, no, he's been alright. Just popped in to look at the horses," the soldier replied.

"Oh, alright. Well, c'mon, Wally. An officer's 'ere in the village, and if he sees you 'ere in this stable, he'll blow a fuse,"

Wally nodded. "Thanks for letting me see the horses," he said to the soldier.

"My pleasure, mate," he replied.

Wally and Stanley walked off out of the stables, hoping to get back to the others before the officer did, or they were going to be in trouble. The soldier then turned his attention back to the horses.

"Right, let's give you some more oats," he said to them as he bent down to get some more oats to feed them.


	52. The new recruit

**Five days later**

**Date: July 20****th**

After the fiasco of the rainstorm and all the men meant to be returning or leaving the frontline around the Somme had passed, things quickly settled back to normal there. Everyone was still living in the god forsaken constructions of war and men on both sides were still risking their lives every day and wondering whether they would live or night to see the night. They all prayed and hoped that fate would save them, though sometimes their prayers were not always answered and even if they were, for many it was the answer they feared the most: Death in No Man's Land.

In the trench, the squad were sitting about with a few others soldiers. Hans was on sentry duty, Wally was sitting in the small square shaped hole in the side of the trench with another soldier called Jack and Moe was sitting in the machine gun nest, though half-lying down so he did present himself as a target for any German snipers, talking to two others soldiers sitting with their backs against the sandbag wall at the front of the machine gun nest. Adam was off somewhere again, attending to some other matters. This time it was a much better day then it had been in the weeks previously. The sun was shining and a blue sky was all around them, stretching on for miles in all directions. It was going to be another good day, and there was supposed to be more sun for the next few days so there was something the men on the Western Front could look forward to.

Next to Hans were two other soldiers. One of them holding a normal Lee Enfield .303 rifle, the other sniper rifle. The soldier with the sniper rifle had his weapon aimed out across No Man's Land, slowly moving left and right as he looked through the scope to try and find a viable target. The butt of his weapon was placed against his heart as if he and the sniper rifle were one, forever joined to kill enemies from a distance.

Then, he fired a shot, paused for a second as he looked up from his scope across No Man's Land, as if he had super vision, before looking back through his scope. He growled in frustration. He had missed. He moved his rifle right and fired another shot. Another pause and look up from his scope and then through his scope before he growled again. Another miss. It was not that he wanted to hurt the German soldier he was trying to shoot, but it was missing he hated, especially when using a rifle that could see across vast distances of land and kill targets before they can fire on you, sometimes before they even see you. His heart was also acting the same way as his emotions for it was beating madly like it was itself angry that he had missed his target and was fuelling the anger and urging the soldier to continue until he hit the German soldier.

Behind him, Wally and Jack were locked deep in conversation.

"So, today you guys get another recruit?" Jack asked Wally, who nodded.

"I wonder how long he'll last," he said to himself. "I mean, they all seem to die within a few weeks and yet me, Hans, Moe and Adam live on like we're invincible,"

Jack shrugged and nodded in agreement. "It's like with my group," he said. "Me and Aaron-" he indicated to the sniper, who had just fired another shot and this time smiled as he had finally hit his target after about three tries. "-are the only ones, besides our captain, who've lasted this long ever since we arrived. All the others are either dead or wounded at the hospital."

"I bet we're all probably regarded as super humans among the others," Hans, who had overheard the conversation, interjected. "I wouldn't be surprised if one of the new recruits heard about me living so long here and started calling me superman,"

Wally and Jack smirked, as did Hans, who looked back out across No Man's Land at the German positions. He wondered if there was a German over there right now on sentry duty, looking back at him and probably having a good time with his friends. The Germans were no different than them in this war, apart from the fact they were the invaders, but still they were stuck in this trench warfare and hated it just as much as the British did, yet the war still went on and, as many men now thought as it showed no sign of ceasing, it would be a long time before it was over.

"Right, let's see where you're assigned squad is,"

Wally looked out from the square shaped hole to see an elderly officer walk from the section of trench that led to the rear trenches into the frontline trench. Behind him was a young looking soldier of about sixteen with brown hair, blue eyes and was actually quite small, only about 5ft 6. He looked nervous as if he wanted to get away from here, which was what most of the soldiers here wanted to do, but for him to be scared right now was actually quite a rarity for new recruits. Wally had barely seen anyone who was new to the war and had wanted to get away back to Britain.

The officer looked to his right and saw the dugout entrance. "Ah! Here it is," he exclaimed and he led the soldier into the dugout.

Hans and Moe had not even noticed that a new soldier had been led into their dugout. This was probably the new recruit they were to receive today. About a minute passed before the officer emerged from the dugout and walked back up the long section of trench to the rear trenches.

_I'll go talk to him _Wally thought. He did not want their new recruit to be left nervous already. He thought it was right if he went and assured him he was alright here at the front and that he had a friend here. "I'll speak to you later, Jack," Wally said to the soldier across from him.

Jack nodded. "I better be off anyway," he replied as he moved out of the hole with Wally. "See if I got any mail from my sister,"

The two said goodbye and Wally walked right whilst jack walked in the opposite direction. When Wally reached the dugout entrance, he peered inside and saw the young soldier with his backpack on the table, looking at a photograph of something, though what it was, Wally could not tell.

He stepped into the dugout, his foot making a loud pounding noise on the wooden floorboards. The soldier looked at him and quickly stuffed the photograph back inside his backpack. Wally took another step in, nodding and smiling at the soldier

"Hello," Wally said to him.

"Um…h-hi," the soldier replied, replying with a small, but nervous smile.

"Are you alright?" Wally asked him.

"Uh…y-yes. I-I'm fine," he replied, stammering.

"You nervous about being here?"

"Yeah,"

"Don't worry," Wally walked up to the soldier and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be alright. I was nervous when I came here as well, but you'll get used to it,"

The soldier smiled a little more now. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," Wally took his hand off the soldier's shoulder and held it up to him. "I'm Wally by the way,"

The soldier took Wally's hand and shook it. "Albert," he said.

The two let go of each other's hands and Albert turned back to his backpack. "Is there a free bed where I can put this?" he asked.

Wally nodded. "One of the bunk beds, apart from that one," he replied, also pointing at Moe's to let Albert know it was taken.

Albert thanked him and walked over to one of the lower bunk beds, the one below Moe's, and sat down on it.

"I'll wait outside for you," Wally told him. "Introduce you to everyone else,"

Albert nodded and Wally walked out of the dugout back into the trench. That Albert recruit was strange. Friendly, but strange. There was something odd about him, as if he were scared of something.

_It's probably because he's at the frontline_ Wally thought.

Yes, that was probably, and most likely, to be it, but still, he could just not help but feel there was something strange and different about that new recruit. It was as if he were different somehow, like he had a different purpose here. What, Wally did not know, and if he would eventually know, he also did not know.

Overall, what it was about this new recruit he found to be different he may or may not find out in future.


	53. What Albert's looking for

**Eleven days later**

**Date: July 31****st**

Today was another bright and sunny day for the men in the Somme sector of the Western Front. It was nice and warm with a gentle cool breeze to cool you down if you got too warm. It was the perfect weather for summer. If only it was not in a war, this part of the Western Front would be a paradise and a great destination for many holidaymakers to come and spend a few days.

For the squad, it was another good day. They were off the trenches again, which seemed to happen to everyone recently, probably because there was barely any action taking place across the frontline. Maybe because the Germans wanted to try and enjoy the beautiful summer weather whilst it lasted and the British and French felt like doing the same. Today, they were in the same small village they were in about two weeks ago and because the weather was so good, they were near a lake where they could lay down and relax, and that was exactly what they, and a few other squads of soldiers were doing.

Wally was lying down on his coat in the Sun, enjoying the warmth that flooded him from above. His head was resting on his backpack and his eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but he was resting his eyes. A few other soldiers around him copied his idea, resting on their coats and backpacks, some enjoying the warmth flooding down from them, others either talking, reading or just staring across the beautiful, tranquil water of the lake next to them. Across it on the other side was a small wood and every now and then, a few fish would be visible swimming about underneath the surface.

This was the perfect place in the summer with fitting weather for the season.

"Stop him!"

Wally opened his eye a little and looked over at a small field next to the cobbled road to see a group of fourteen soldiers playing football, about seven on each team. On one of the teams were Moe and Hans. At the moment the score was two-one to Hans and Moe's team, though their team was getting a little cocky and had had several near misses of their rival teams scoring goals.

At the moment, one of the players on the rival team, a young nineteen year old with blonde hair and was very fast, had control of the ball and manoeuvred it around one of the players on Hans and Moe's team and began sprinting towards the goal, which was two backpacks spaced about ten feet from each other, which was the same for the other goal about thirty feet away. Moe ran forward and tried to tackle him but the player was too quick and kicked it through his legs and ran around him.

"OI! Someone stop 'im!" he shouted.

The player was ten feet from the goal of his rival team when he launched a kick at the ball. The goalkeeper dived sideways to try and stop the ball but he failed and it went through the goal. Hans and Moe, along with their team, shouted and cursed in annoyance that their rival team had gotten a goal, which now meant the score was two all.

However, the two teams failed to notice the ball zoom on towards the lake. The soldier had kicked it too hard and by the time they realised where it was…

SPLASH! ARGH!

Wally and the other marines laying down around the lake, as well as the fourteen soldiers playing football, looked over at the lake to see another soldier, who was tall, about 6ft 2, and quite heavily built, get up and rub his face dry. He looked down at the lake next to him where the ball was floating on the surface. Then, he looked at the two football teams and glared.

"He did it!" the goalkeeper of Hans and Moe's team piped up, pointing at the soldier on the rival team who had kicked the ball.

The soldier standing by the lake glared and picked up the ball and began walking over towards them. When he reached them, he said something and held the ball up to them to make sure his point got around before he threw it down on the ground and kicked it into some nearby bushes and walked back over to his spot, now needing to rely on the Sun to dry his face.

"Right, let's go and find the ball," Hans said and he, Moe and a few others walked off into the bushes to find the ball. The other soldiers lying down chuckled a little over what had just happened before going back to what they had been doing before.

Wally laughed a little and closed his eyes again. Oh, it was peaceful here. It was pe-

Wait a minute. He opened his eye and looked back over at the field, though this time beyond it at the cobbled road. He could see someone walking across it. It…it looked like it was a soldier. Yes, it was a soldier for the green coat and backpack gave him away, but who was it?

Wally watched the soldier walk across the road and into the remains of the village, where he walked through the back garden of what had been a hut and towards the stable buildings. Wally sat up and watched him. That soldier...he looked just like…Albert! What was Albert doing? Why was he going into a stable building? Well, he was going to find out.

Wally got up and walked across the field and the cobbled road into the village. When he reached it, he saw Albert stop at the stable entrance and look around to make sure no one was watching him before he peered inside. He looked about for a second before he decided to walk in.

_What's he doing? _Wally thought as he walked over towards the stable.

Actually, this was nothing new. For the past few days, Albert had been acting suspiciously. He was always looking at a photograph and would stuff it away whenever someone else would walk into the dugout and when anyone asked what it was, he just did not talk about; pretending not to have heard them or he tried to change the subject, and since yesterday when the squad was taken off the frontline to the village, he began acting suspiciously, looking around the village as if he were searching for something. This was the second time he had gone into the stables, the first time had been yesterday but he had only managed a quick glimpse before an officer had told him to clear off. Something was going on here with him and Wally had to find out what because it could threaten Albert by getting him into trouble.

When he reached the stable, he too quickly looked around to make sure no officer was coming, which there was not, and peered inside to see Albert looking into each of the pens. Most of them were empty, but there were no soldiers in the stables, obviously apart from Albert.

Wally stepped into the stables and cleared his throat. Albert froze where he was and turned to see Wally standing there.

"Oh, It's you, Wally," he said, relieved. "I thought you were an officer,"

"No," Wally replied and he stepped towards Albert. "Albert, what are doing in here?" he asked. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not looking for anything," Albert replied quickly, which obviously meant that he was lying and Wally knew it.

"No, look!" he said. "I know you're hiding something, okay? Look, you've been acting suspicious ever since you've arrived and yesterday you spent most of the day going through the village as if you were trying to find something. I'm not being nosey, but I'm worried about you. I mean, you could get into trouble for doing this. So, what is it? What is it that's troubling you or giving you concern?"

Albert stared at Wally for a second before he sighed and looked up at him.

"Alright, Wally," he said. "If you really want to know," he paused. "I didn't really want to come out here and fight,"

Wally sighed. "Albert, there's loads of people here who didn't want to fight. I mean, I don't want to but I can't just leave so-"

"No, no, no!" Albert interrupted him before sighing again. "What I mean was: I did mean to come out here, but not to fight,"

Wally's eyes widened. What? He came out here, but…not to fight? What the Hell was going on here?

"W-what do you mean?" Wally asked him, beginning to get concerned.

"I mean: I've come out here for another purpose." Albert replied. "I've really come out here to look for someone,"

This was getting more suspicious with every word. He was out here looking for someone, but who?

"Who?"

Albert replied by reaching for his backpack, opening it and he began rifling through it. As he did, Wally thought over who it could be he was looking for. Maybe it was a brother or a close friend? Or maybe he had a sister or his girlfriend is out here serving in the hospital or something.

Finally, after about a minute of searching through his backpack, Albert took out a small photograph and handed it to Wally. He scrutinized it, taking in the image. It really surprised him. The one he was looking for was not a man, nor it was it a woman. In fact, it was a horse!

"A horse?" Wally asked, looking at Albert, confused. "You're looking for a horse?"

Albert nodded. "His name's Joey. He was my friend, but when the war began, my dad sold him to army. I had to lie about my age to get in and I've got through hard training. And I just want to get him back home."

Wally took in what Albert had told him. Wow! Albert's story of why he was here and the horse he was looking for…it was actually quite sad to know that your own father would sell an animal for money, but not thinking of whether it would live or not through this war.

It was then Wally noticed something about the horse. As he looked down at it, he saw it had a light coat in the black and white photograph, indicating it was most likely a light brown. Then, he noticed a wide white strip going down the front of the horse's face from the forehead to the snout. That horse looked very familiar. It looked exactly like the one…

Oh God. He had seen Albert's horse!

"Albert!" Wally whispered in shock as he looked up at him from the photograph. "This horse of yours, does he have light brown skin?" Albert nodded. "And whiteness around the hooves and a wide white strip going down his face from the forehead to the snout?" again, Albert nodded. "Oh, God," Wally said.

"What is it?" Albert asked him, beginning to get concerned about Wally getting shocked all of a sudden. Wally looked back up at him from the photograph.

"Albert, I've seen your horse,"


	54. Is it him?

**Six days later**

**August 6****th**

July was over and the month of August had rolled in over the Western Front, bringing with it more sunshine and heat. Reports of a heat wave sweeping across some areas of the front had been confirmed but this lovely summer weather was not going to deter both sides from fighting each other. After all, this was a war and with both sides locked in trench warfare, neither was going to give very easily, even if there was weather that was perfect for the summer.

In the village behind the British frontline west of Thiepval in the Somme sector, it was the last day for several squads of their time off the front before they were to be sent back, so they were going to make the most of it. Some were resting by the lake or playing football whilst others were enjoying a drink with some liquor they had managed to liberate from the village's pub, and they were enjoying it greatly, just so they could make up for one more free day before they were to go back into the daily routine of trying to survive in the harsh conditions of the trenches.

However, for two men, today there was no chance of rest.

Running up one of the main cobbled roads was Wally and Albert. For the past six days, they had searching every part of this village and the surrounding areas for Albert's horse, Joey. They had gone to the stables every day to check and see if he was there or asked anyone that was there if they knew where he was, they had searched every building from huts to corner shops to the town hall. They had even spent the whole of yesterday searching the fields and nearby woods that surrounded the village for any sign of Albert, but all to no avail.

It was beginning to take It's toll on Albert. He was worried about Joey and even though Wally had kept on reassuring him that they would eventually find him, he knew as well that it was beginning to get hopeless. They had searched everywhere for the horse and yet had come up with nothing. Even Albert was beginning to think that they would never find Joey.

That was until about ten minutes ago.

Even though they had been to the stable countless times over the past six days, they were still going there, hoping that Joey would be there, or at least somewhere who knew where he was, but they were thinking the negative and believed that they would find nothing or no one there, but they were wrong. When they arrived, they met the soldier that Wally had talked with when he had seen Joey in the stables and he had told them that Joey had been taken to one of the military stables camps outside the village in one of the nearby fields, having being brought back there earlier this morning after being used for delivering supplies. Upon hearing this, the two had legged it from the stables, ignoring the soldier's shouts of the reason why the horse was there.

The two turned left into another cobbled street that led to the edge of the village. A few soldiers walking along the side of the road or resting in the nearby buildings shouted to them but they ignored them and ran on, determined to get to that station quickly.

When they reached the end of the road, they stopped and found themselves staring at a wide expanse of green, a field. About two hundred feet away was a small hill. It was as if they were travellers about to leave one country that was ruled by man to another that was ruled by Mother Nature.

(breath)…(breath)…"Wh-where did-(breath) that sol-(breath)-dier say the cavalry-(breath)-camp was?" Wally choked out between his gasps for breath as he leaned over slightly, resting his hands on his knees to hold himself up.

"Across this field, about a quarter of a mile away," Albert replied, having not broken a sweat, which just showed how strong people were when they were determined to look for something that really meant to them.

Wally took a deep breath and stood up straight. "Alright, let's go," he said, and they ran off across the field.

**Five minutes later**

The cavalry base outside the village was just a few tents with a small pen where the horses would be taken to and kept until needed. At the moment, there were about five horses there, three of them were black horses and the other two were brown horses. A few officers were about in the camp, either sitting in their tents or laying down on the ground, warming up with the heat of the Sun.

Then, an officer, who looked about twenty five with short red hair and a small moustache, laying down near the edge of the cavalry camp looked up to see two soldiers running towards them.

"What the…?" he said as he sat up and watched them approach. He stood up from the ground. "Oi, what are you two doin' here?" he asked the two soldiers as they came to a halt in front of them.

"We-(breath)-we're looking-(breath)-for-(breath)-a horse," Wally replied through his gasps for breath.

"Well, there's a lot of horses in the army, mate," the officer told him. "How can you be sure the one you're looking for here. Besides, you two shouldn't be 'ere. Your army men, not cavalry officers."

"We know that," Albert said. "Look, someone at the village nearby told us that there's a horse here, a new one that got taken from the Germans a while ago, and I need to find him, so can I please have a look at your horses,"

The officer stared at him for a moment before he heaved a heavy sigh.

"Alright, but 'urry up," he told them. "You'll get yourselves and me into trouble. Go on,"

Albert thanked the officer and he and Wally ran over to the pen like children going to see animals at the zoo. When they reached the pen, they climbed over the fence and walked among the horses. They were wall eating the grass, but one of the, one of the brown ones, was snorting loudly as if it were trying to sneeze. Albert ignored this brown horse as it did not have a white stripe going down It's face, but turned his attention to the other one, which had It's head down at the ground, eating away at the grass.

"Wally," Albert whispered. "I think I've found him."

It had to be Joey. He was brown, had whiteness around his hooves and there was even a white stripe going down the animal's face. This had to be him! Albert ran over to the horse and it looked at him, bringing It's head up from the ground. Albert placed a hand on the horse's snout and leaned forward slightly. Wally watched as Albert examined the creature.

"Well, is it him?" Wally asked after a few seconds.

Albert turned to face him, his face filled with sadness and defeat. He sighed.

"No, the white stripe's too thin. It's not him," he replied.

Wally sighed and walked over to Albert and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Well, I guess we'll just have to face the fact he's no longer in this area, Albert," he said to him. "I'm sorry,"

Albert nodded slightly. Wally was right, but he did not want to believe it. Joey had to be here, he had to! They had searched everywhere in this sector of the front and had not found him, but he just had to be here. I mean, the soldier at the village had told them he was here earlier on this morning, so he had to be here!

"Are you two done?" the officer who they had spoken to asked them in an annoyed voice.

Wally sighed. "C'mon, let's go,"

"Wait," Albert interjected. He walked past Wally and climbed over to the fence over to the officer; Wally followed.

"I need to ask you something," Albert said when he reached the officer, who sighed. This was getting on his nerves.

"What is it now?" he asked in a voice that clearly sounded he wanted them to go away.

"Was there another horse with a white stripe going down his face in this camp this morning?" Albert asked the officer.

"Well how the bloody Hell should I know?" the officer replied. "What do I look like, their mothers?" he added sarcastically.

"Well, can you go ask someone, please?"

The officer sighed and rubbed his hand down the front of his face. This was getting on his nerves and he was really close to losing his temper, but he kept his cool.

"Right, wait here," the officer said to them and he walked off over to another officer, who was also about twenty five but was slightly shorter than the other officer and had blonde hair, that was standing outside his tent, checking his sword, which was the main weapon for a cavalry soldier. Wally and Albert watched the officer say something to him and lead him over to them. "These two need your help," the first officer told the other officer when they reached Albert and Wally.

"Alright, what do you two need?" he asked them.

"Was there another horse here earlier on today with a white stripe going down his face?" Albert asked.

The officer placed one hand on his chin for a second and thought hard. _Was there another horse here with a white stripe on It's face? Ah, yes there was!_

"Yep, I remember," the officer told them. "The only other horse with a white stripe has been taken out on a reconnaissance mission with a load of other horses and their riders. Apparently, It's to do with something planned for about a week's time,"

"You two happy now?" the other officer asked them. Wally and Albert, deciding it was best not to push their luck in staying here, nodded. "Right, now bugger off!"

They did so, but as they walked away from the cavalry camp, Albert sighed.

"I thought we were gonna find him here, Wally," he said.

Wally placed a hand on Albert's shoulder. "Yeah, so did I," he replied. "But he's still in this area, so we don't have to worry about him getting lost or captured,"

Albert nodded a little. Wally was right. Maybe they did not find Joey, but at least they knew he was still in this area and by the sounds of what the officer in the camp had told them, he was most likely to stay here for a while. Hopefully, they would get him then.

However, as the two walked up the side of the hill, Albert turned his head to face Wally.

Hey, Wally? What do think that officer meant by something being planned?" he asked. 


	55. Sound, but not safe

**Nine days later**

**August 15****th**

Today at the Somme sector of the front was another good day with, as if had been for quite a while, perfect summer weather. The sun was shining in the clear blue sky and the gentle breeze continued to blow over the war torn land of the Western Front. However, what had really surprised the squad was that every now and then a few birds would fly over the front, singing away, which made the men on either side smile at knowing that these beautiful creatures, who had been forced from their homes by the war, were still around seemed to bring happiness with them.

In the rear trenches, Wally and Albert helping out a few soldiers unload some supplies that were being delivered. Adam had said the soldiers needed some help as a few members of their team were down with sickness or on home leave. Deciding that nothing was likely to happen as they had only had three trench attacks over the past nine days, which was probably due to the weather, they agreed.

Wally passed Albert another box of food, mainly tins of bully beef but among them was loaves of bread and blocks of cheese, who walked to the trench entrance and passed it to another waiting soldier, one out of a group who had been ordered to help out, who took it and began entering dugouts to leave some of the supplies in them. Even though this was hard as some boxes were very heavy, it was still better than being out there on the front waiting for a shell to explode and pepper you with shrapnel or a bullet to blow your brains out.

As the soldier on the back of the supply truck handed Wally another box…

BOOM! BOOM! The group around the truck, as well as several others in the trench, looked out towards the front where two pillars of smoke rose up from them. They were not shells because they did not make the whooshing sound like shells normally did when they come in to land and explode. Then, a voice shouted from the trench.

"It's alright!" it said. "Just a couple of grenades!"

The soldier on the back of the truck scoffed. "Nothing eventful," he commented. "Right, c'mon, back to work," he ordered and Wally took the next box of supplies to Albert.

"Does that usually happen?" he asked Wally, who nodded.

"But mostly with shells and they're a lot worse," he replied.

"Oi, mate! C'mon," the soldier on the back of the supply truck called to him.

Wally turned and walked back to the truck and took the next box from the soldier and took it to Albert and passed it to him.

They carried on with this job for another ten minutes, with nothing else apart from a few shots being exchanged across No Man's Land from snipers, happening. When they were finally done, Wally and Albert were glad it was and picked up their weapons, which they had left on the ground near the trench entrance and began to walk back into the trench.

"Right, c'mon, bring those horses in!"

Upon hearing the word horses, Wally and Albert instantly looked over their shoulders and went wide-eyed.

A group of horses and their riders were coming towards them from across the field. There were nine of them, three black, three brown and three grey. Their riders were walking alongside them, pulling them by the reins towards the trenches. At the head of the group of horses and riders was a leading officer, probably the leading rider. As they came closer, Albert squinted his eyes slightly to look at the brown horses. Two of them did not have white strips going down their faces, but one of them did!

"Wally," Albert gasped as his eyes rested on the horse. He reached into his backpack and took out the photo of his horse Joey and looked at it and then back up at the horse, which was only about forty feet away. It was! "Wally!" Albert gasped again. "It's him! We-we've found him!"

"My God!" Wally replied, whispering and filled with shock.

"I gotta get him!" Albert said. "I gotta get him now!"

Before Wally could stop him, Albert ran from his friend towards the group of horses and riders. Wally shouted after him and ran after Albert to stop him but he was a lot quicker than he was.

"Stop!" he shouted at the group of horses and riders. "Stop!"

His shouting made one of the black horses neigh loudly and It's rider pulled back hard on the reins to stop it from running off or rearing up on It's back legs. The leading rider was not pleased.

"What the bloody Hell do you think you're playing at?" he shouted at Albert.

"That horse," Albert replied, pointing at the horse with a thin white stripe going down It's face. "His name's Joey, and he's mine,"

"What the Hell do you mean 'e's yours?" the officer asked, anger in his voice. "He's in the British Army and I don't see your name on it,"

"I mean: he's from my farm," Albert replied desperately, unwilling to give up. "And I've come to take him back to Britain,"

As Wally reached the group, he recognized the brown horse. It was Joey. However, he also recognized the black horse next to it. It was Topthorn. The rider who Wally had met in the stables when he had first seen Joey and Topthorn was standing next to him, but on the other side so he did not see Wally.

"Look, you!" the officer Albert was talking to half-shouted, poking him the chest. "You're starting to piss me off! That 'orse, even if he is yours, was sold into the army, and once he was sold, he was ours! Now, he's staying here and he's taking part in an attack tomorrow on the Boche lines whether you like it or not! Now get out of the way before I knock you out of the way!"

Wally grabbed Albert on the arm. "C'mon, Albert," he said to him. "Let's go,"

Albert wanted to say no, but Wally pulled him away back towards the trenches. The leading officer 'humphed' at knowing his superior rank and threat had worked on ordered the group left towards a small camp that had been set up for them about one hundred feet away.

As they walked back towards the trench, Albert pulled his arm out of Wally's grip and looked back at the group of horses.

"It's not fair!" he cried, wiping a tear away from his eye. "I can't let them do this. If I don't get Joey out of here tomorrow, he'll die!"

"Albert," Wally said, trying to calm him down, resting his hands on his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. "We'll get him out of here. I promise you, we will. But we'll just have to wait until tomorrow passes."

"But what if he dies, Wally?" Albert broke away from Wally and looked back at the group of horses. "What if he goes over and gets hit? I-if he dies, I-I won't…I won't be able to live with myself!"

Wally sighed and looked over at the group of horses. Albert was right. If Joey did die, then all their searching and hopes of getting him off the Western Front and back home to Britain where he would be safe would disappear into thin air. They had to save him, but the officer at the head of the group said he was not going to give up the horse easily and, as if that was not bad enough, the horses were going on an attack tomorrow and Joey could well and truly die in the attack. They could only hope he lived through it tomorrow.

After a second, Wally nudged Albert.

"C'mon. We'll worry about it tomorrow, Albert," he said.

Albert took one more look back at the group of horses before he sighed and nodded in agreement and followed Wally back into the trench.

The next twenty four hours were going to be Hell for him over what would happen to Joey. All he could do was hope and pray that he would live.


	56. The attack

**The next day**

**August 16****th**

It was another clear day with a bright and blue sunny sky and a gentle breeze, though a little stronger than before, blowing in the air for the Somme sector of the Western Front. It would normally be another peaceful summer day for the British and Germans here, but today all that was going to change.

Today was the big day for an attack by a small group of cavalry on the German lines. It was not to try and breakthrough the German lines, but to try and push them back a little, something which had rarely been heard of in an offensive that has passed in the war so far as they had all been intended, by both sides who had launched attacks, to break through the others lines and end the bloody stalemate.

The plan for the attack was for a small and quick bombardment with shells and mortars on the German lines and then an attack with infantry and cavalry to push back the Germans, the cavalry being ordered to kill any retreating Germans and keep a lookout for any reinforcements that might arrive to try and push back the British from their trenches. There was doubt over whether the attack would succeed as all other plans for an attack in the past had failed and few believed that this one would fare any better, even if it did have cavalry leading the attack.

For two men, one of them especially, this attack was a time of worry. Those two men were Wally and Albert.

After the fiasco that had happened yesterday when Albert had tried to stop Joey, one of the horses in the group that was to take part in the attack today and who was Albert's horse who, as Albert had said, had been sold to the British army, from being used in the attack today, Albert had barely slept through the night, which Wally could tell as his eyes were red, but whether they were from lack of sleep or from tears he did not know. He could not, however, help but feel sorry for him. Albert had lived with Joey in his life for a long time and now he was most likely going to die in this attack on the German trenches.

Now, the two were standing in one of the long sections of trench, that led to the rear trenches, with Hans, Moe and several other soldiers who were not taking part in the attack. In the frontline trench was a line of men who were the infantry that were to charge across No Man's Land as soon as the cavalry had gone over. There was about fifty of them. At the moment all they could do was wait.

As Wally and Albert stood there, Wally noticed Albert had his head lowered and he kept rubbing his face with his hand every few seconds. He sighed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. He knew that within the next ten minutes or so, Albert could lose someone who was very important to him. It was horrible to think that this was happening to him, losing an animal that you had seen as a very close friend, or even a member of your family to you, was a horrible way to go. It was like Wally fearing that Hal could one day die and this was kind of the same situation with Albert, only this was his horse at risk instead of his brother or father but it was just as horrible to think about let alone watch.

"Two minutes left," an officer at the back of the group in the trench announced, looking up from his watch.

Albert took a deep breath to calm down. This was getting to him. If Joey was to die, then he just wanted the attack and get his death over with instead of leaving him here suffering and waiting for it to happen.

"Albert, you'll be alright," Wally said to his friend.

Albert looked up at him. He gave him a small smile but it quickly faded from his face.

"I appreciate that, Wally," he replied. "But if Joey dies out there, then..." he trailed off and looked down at the trench floor. "What's the point in me living? I mean, he's what I've come out here for, isn't he,"

Wally did not reply. He did not know what to say after he had just Albert tell him that he was not worth living if Joey was to die out in No Man's Land. Wally wanted to tell Albert that he was being over dramatic and that he would get over it, but he decided it was best not to in case he might offend him and looked ahead towards No Man's Land. The seconds ticked by one after the other. A soldier standing in the frontline trench gulped, no doubt he was scared over what was about to happen. Albert began to shake a little now, his hands half-clenched as tears sprung up in his eyes, some falling to the trench floor.

_Just do it now! _he mentally begged. _Please, just do it and get it over with!_

Then, behind them, the officer blew on his whistle. Albert gasped and looked up; revealing his tear soaked eyes to Wally, towards No Man's Land. A few loud whooshes filled the air, followed by explosions, indicating that the shells and mortars were landing on the German lines. One after the other, they landed, filling the air with their deafening booms and causing untold death and destruction on the German positions. 

For several minutes this went on when it stopped all of a sudden. Silence filled the air for a moment as if the guns had been silenced by a sudden peace. Then, a loud neigh drew everyone's attention and the men in the frontline trench crouched down as nine large animals jumped over them onto the ground that was No Man's Land. They watched them go. Albert began breathing heavily and felt as if he were going to pass out. Luckily, Wally heard him and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from collapsing.

"Infantry, over you go," an officer in the front line trench ordered.

As soon as the officer finished speaking, the infantry pulled themselves out of the trenches and charged across No Man's Land after the cavalry. As soon as they were out of the frontline trench, the soldiers in the long section of trench ran forward like an eager sports crowd watching something a game and had been drawn to the edge by their eagerness, and looked out after the advancing infantry and cavalry, watching them disappear in the thin cloud of smoke and dust thrown up by the shell and mortar bombardment.

As they watched them attacked, Wally looked at Albert who was staring on with wide eyes, filled with shock, fear and sadness over what was happening and over what could happen. His best friend was going out into No Man's Land, right into the teeth of the German guns. He was a sitting duck. He wanted to go out there and be with Joey. If his horse was to die, then he at least wanted to be with him!

Albert went to pull himself out of the trench but Wally stopped him and pulled him back in.

"What are you doing?" Albert cried, trying to push Wally off him.

"Stopping you from getting killed," Wally replied as he struggled to hold onto Albert and prevent him from running off into No Man's Land.

Albert began to struggle harder but Wally's larger size and strength held him back. After a few seconds, he finally stopped and broke away from Wally and folded up his arms and placed them on the ground above the trench wall facing No Man's Land and put his head on them and sobbed. Wally sighed and rested his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Albert," he said. "I can't let you get killed,"

"If he was going to die!" Albert said through his sobs, though it was muffled but Wally could just about understand him. "I wanted to be there with him, Wally," he lifted his head up from his arms and looked out across No Man's Land, a tear rolling down his face. "He's my best friend!"

Wally rested his other hand on Albert's other shoulder and pulled him into a comforting embrace. Albert half-expected it, resting the side of his head against Wally's chest. Hans and Moe noticed this and walked over.

"Is he alright?" Moe asked Wally, who nodded, but noticed Adam was not with the group.

"Hey guys," he said. "Where's Adam?"

"I dunno," Hans replied. "He said he had to go off and do something,"

He was doing a lot of that lately ever since he had returned. Something was going on with him but Wally did not have the faintest of what it could be.

Suddenly, screaming erupted from No Man's Land, from the direction of the German trenches. Those in the front line trench looked out to hear and see, though only just about as the cloud of dust and smoke was growing slightly thicker, men and horse fall to the ground, riddled with bullets.

Albert let go of Wally and stepped towards the frontline one pace, his eyes wide with disbelief. At first, he just froze, his entire body not moving an inch. Then, he fell forward onto the mud of No Man's Land. Wally, Moe and Hans pulled him away from it, revealing his forehead and parts of his hair covered with mud, but he broke down onto his knees and buried his face in his hands. Wally knelt down to comfort him and Moe rested a hand on his shoulder. Moe and Hans were confused about why Albert was upset, but Wally knew why.

That was it. H-he was gone. Joey was dead.


	57. Saving him

**Meanwhile, out in No Man's Land**

The smoke and dust from the shelling began to subside and the noise of the battle died down into silence in a warm air in a terrible landscape equal to Hell itself. No man's Land. The British had attacked with cavalry a few moments ago and were massacred by the Germans. All the horses and their riders and the infantry sent to attack the German soldiers in the trenches were all dead and now their bodies lay in No Man's Land, either to be buried by the mud and rot away or torn apart by shells whenever the next bombardment would come, or be eaten by rats. Either way of the three was gruesome, and yet it was something both sides along the Western Front had just grown used to and they would have to continue witnessing such horrible things until the war finally came to an end or one side broke through the other's lines. By the looks of things at the moment, the first outcome looked more likely.

In the German trenches, a young looking and thin German with blonde hair and blue eyes and a small scar across his cheek from where a piece of shrapnel had been launched into his face a few months ago walked down the trench, looking out across No Man's Land as if he were expecting another attack. Most of his comrades had gone either further up or down the line to make sure the British did not try and launch any other attacks.

At the moment all was quiet. The silence hung in the air like a cloud, but still the soldier remained vigilant, his hand on his rifle, ready to whip it out and fire on anything else that came across No Man's Land to attack the trench. Even though he had only been at the frontline for three and a half months, he knew very well that if things got too quiet and peaceful then danger was most likely to befall your trench in a matter of seconds.

SNORT! The soldier whipped out his rifle and aimed it across No Man's Land, pointing the barrel towards the cloud of smoke and dust and keeping his finger on the trigger. What the Hell was that? It could not have been a soldier because they were all dead, as were the riders of the horses, and he was sure all the horses were dead. What was it?

Then, as the cloud began to clear more, a shape began to take form. The soldier took a step forward in the trench towards No Man's Land, squinting his eyes a little to see the shape better. This shape…it-it looked…like…and it did sound like…

SNORT! A horse!

The soldier looked at the horse, lowering his weapon slightly as he taking in It's form. It was a brown colour with whiteness around It's hooves. A white stripe ran down the face of the animal from the forehead to the snout.

It was Joey. H-he had survived.

His rider lay in the mud beside him, dead. However, there was something else in the mud as well. The soldier looked at it and saw it was another horse. It was a black one, a little bigger than the brown horse, with whiteness around It's hooves and it also had a white stripe going down It's face from the forehead to the top of the snout.

It was Topthorn. He had not been as lucky as Joey. During that attack, the Germans had fired a few mortars into the attacking British. One had exploded on the ground next to Topthorn. The shrapnel launched from the explosive device had killed his rider outright and a large piece had torn right into his side. Now, he was just lying on the ground, silent. He was still alive, but the shrapnel had torn deep into his side and with the amount of blood he had already lost…H-he…was…he was not…going to make it.

Joey stepped forward and bent his head low and nudged the side of Topthorn's slightly. Topthorn let out a weak neigh and moved his head so his eye was looking up at Joey. Joey looked back down at him with sad eyes as if to say: _No Topthorn! Please don't die! _He nudged Topthorn again, urging and begging him to stand up but Topthorn was too weak to do so. At this point, Joey raised his head a little as if he finally realised that his friend was going to die.

Out of the corner of his eye, a small tear appeared out of the corner of his eye and rolled down his face and fell to the ground. Even though he was just an animal, Joey could feel sadness like a Human could and could mourn like a Human could, and right now he was mourning Topthorn, his comrade and brother in this war.

Topthorn let out another weak neigh and shifted slightly as he tried yet again to stand up, and failed. Looking up at Joey, his and his friend's eyes met as if they were saying a final goodbye. Then, with a quiet exhale, Topthorn's eyes closed and he went quiet.

Joey let out a strangled neigh, making it sound like he was struggling not to cry, and bent his head low once more and lightly touched the top of Topthorn's head, as if he were giving his friend a final kiss goodbye. He then looked up and scanned the war torn scene around him as if to say: _How the Hell do I get out of here?_

In the British trench, Albert was sitting in the small square shaped hole in the side of the trench wall, his cheeks red and covered with dry tear stains. Most of the other soldiers had gone back to their dugouts but Moe, Hans and Wally decided to stay outside with Albert to try and cheer him up. Wally was sitting in the square shaped hole across from Albert whilst Moe and Hans were knelt down either side of the hole.

"Don't worry, Albert," Hans, who was kneeling down next to Albert, said comfortingly, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You'll get over it eventually,"

Albert did not reply and, instead, pushed Hans' hand off his shoulder and rested his head against the wooden wall behind him. Wally sighed.

"Albert, you and I both tried," he said. "But…" he paused for a second. "I just think that we weren't meant to save him,"

Albert looked at him. "Well that's great, Wally," he said in a tone that sounded as if it was offended by what Wally had said to him. "I really thought you understood how much Joey meant to me!"

"I do!" Wally protested. "I've got horses as well back at the farm at home and I would be devastated if they were brought out here and killed-"

"Yeah, but are they?" Albert interrupted him, his tone a bit angrier now. "Are any of your horses out here getting killed and torn apart by shells and bullets? No, they're not!"

Albert took a deep breath and rested his head against the wooden wall, holding an angry look on his face. Then, it disappeared from his face and was replaced by sadness and he looked back at Wally.

"I'm sorry, Wally," he said. "I didn't mean that. I just…I just, oh!" he brought his face up to his kness and buried his face in them. Wally looked at Hans and Moe, both holding sorrowful looks on their faces. This just showed that the death of Albert's horse really affected him. He had only come out here to bring his horse back home to safety, but he had failed and now Joey was lying out there dead in No Man's La-

"OI!" a soldier behind Moe and Hans shouted all of a sudden, making Albert raise his head from his knees. "Look out there!" the soldier pointed out across No Man's Land.

Wally and Albert climbed out of the square shaped hole and stood up with Hans and Moe and looked out across No Man's Land with several other soldiers who had come to see what the soldier was shouting about.

They stared across No Man's Land. There was something there, a large shape that had a long neck with a head of…a horse! Wally's eyes went wide. Could it be? Was it Joey? The smoke and dust cloud on the British side of the creature was also beginning to clear. As it did, the soldiers began to see a brown colour on the shape. Also, the head had become visible, but it was facing towards the German lines.

Albert's eyes were wide with shock…and hope.

_Is that? Is it…? _his mind asked, filled with hope.

Then, the horse looked towards the British lines, revealing It's face. Albert saw the white stripe going down It's face. His heart leaped.

"Albert!" Wally whispered. "It's Joey!"

"'Is horse is alive!" Moe said.

The group stared at the horse as if they were in a trance. However, they were quickly put out of it when the soldier who had spotted Joey shouted: "OI! Mate, are you crazy?" and Wally looked beside him to see that Albert was no longer there. Panic filled him like water filling up a tank. If Albert was not there, then the only other place he could be was…

Wally looked out across No Man's Land and saw someone running like Hell towards Joey. It was Albert!

"ALBERT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Wally yelled as he pulled himself out of the trench.

"Wally stop!" Hans shouted out as he tried to grab his friend but missed and Wally ran off after Albert. Hans went to climb out after him, but Moe grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the trench.

"Moe, we can't leave him out there!" Hans protested to his friend.

"It's too dangerous, Hans!" Moe replied. "I want to stop him as well but if we go out there, then we can kiss out 'eads goodbye!"

Hans sighed. Moe was right in a way. If they climbed out of this trench, then they were as good as dead. But Hans really wanted to stop Wally and Albert from getting themselves killed, but the threat of death stopped him. He and Moe would just have to hope they would survive.

Albert was just twenty feet from Joey. His heart was racing, and that was not only because he was sprinting like mad to get to his horse and get him back to the frontline as quickly as possible. It was because he was finally going to save his best friend! He was almost there! Just another few metres!

Suddenly, he felt someone grab him and he was thrown into a shell hole, landing on his side in the mud. Another person fell down beside him, also landing on his side. Albert looked at the person.

"Wally!" he exclaimed angrily. "What are you doing?"

"Stopping you from getting yourself killed!" Wally replied. "What are you doing, Albert? Are you crazy? You made yourself a target for the Germans,"

"I don't care!" Albert protested. "All I want to do is save Joey and get him home! And I thought you understood that, Wally! I really did!"

Wally went to reply but Albert's anger filled gaze stopped him. Albert pulled himself up to the side of the shell hole and poked his head above it. Joey was just four metres away, looking around as if he was wondering where Albert had gone to. Albert went to pull himself out of the shell hole but Wally grabbed him by the leg and stopped him.

"Albert, don't do it! you'll get yourself killed!" Wally told him. "There must be another way we can save him!"

"There isn't!" Albert half shouted in reply, turning his head to face his friend. "And I don't care if there is, Wally! Now you can either help me or go back to the trench! Either way is good for me!"

Wally just stared at him. Albert was really determined to save Joey, even if it meant risking his own life to get him to safety. Was he to help him save Joey? He had helped him find Joey over the past few weeks so, in a way, he had promised to help Albert get Joey back, but this attack he was unprepared for. Was there any point in continuing to save Joey?

Finally, after a few moments, Wally sighed. "Alright, but we need to be quick," he said.

"We will," Albert replied.

Wally pulled himself up to the edge of the shell hole and looked out over the top of it towards the horse and then at the German lines. There were only three German soldiers visible and one of them was heading towards a long section of trench that led back to the rear trenches. The other two were not really paying any attention to Joey. They had to get out there, get Joey and then get him back to the British trenches as quickly as they could.

"Alright," Wally said to Albert. "On three. One…two…THREE!"

The two ran out of the shell hole towards Joey. Sure enough, one of the German soldiers, the one who had first spotted Joey, saw them and shouted something in German. The soldier's comrade, who had a short face, brown hair and brown eyes and was sitting next to him, looked up from the book he was reading and saw them.

Wally and Albert reached Joey and Albert launched himself onto him, hugging him tightly. A few tears fell down his face as he buried his face in the side of the animal. He was happy. They had got him. Now they just had to get him back to the British lines.

Albert grabbed the reins on one side of Joey's head and Wally the other. They began pulling him back towards the British trenches. However, as they were pulling Joey back towards the British trenches, Wally saw the young German load an ammo clip into his rifle and raise it towards them. Wally went wide eyed.

"Albert, look out!" Wally shouted to him, pointing at the German soldier.

Albert looked and saw the soldier raise his rifle. His eyes had also grown wide and he shut them tightly, ready for the bullet to hit them. 

"_NEIN!" _

Wally and Albert opened their eyes to see that the young soldier was wrestling with another German soldier, who was trying to push the soldier down to the floor. The two took the chance and carried on moving Joey back towards the British trenches but could not take their eyes of the amazing scene taking place in front of them.

Finally, after a few seconds, the German soldier with brown hair pushed his comrade to the trench floor. He then looked at the two young soldiers out in No Man's Land. Wally saw him and his eyes went wide.

"Franz!" he gasped. Franz began waving his arms and shouting at them.

"GO! HURRY! GET BACK TO YOUR TRENCHES!"

"C'mon, Wally," Albert said to him, shaking him out of his shocked trance. The two continued to pull Joey back towards the British trenches, where Moe, Hans and few others soldiers were shouting at them to hurry up. They were doing their best and they were getting closer. Just another few metres and they and Joey would be safe.

However, Franz's shouting in the German trench had inadvertently drawn the attention of other German soldiers in the rear trenches. One of them, who was about Franz's height and blonde hair and brown eyes and wore a pair of glasses, ran into the frontline trench with his comrades, some of who helped the German soldier who Franz had wrestled to the ground, pull Franz back from the line. In his arms was a sniper rifle. The soldier stepped up onto the mud seat, that was along the trench wall facing No Man's Land, and aimed his sniper rifle out across No Man's Land, pointing the battle at the two British soldiers and the horse.

"Argh!" Albert grunted as the two neared the British trenches with Joey. They were just three metres away. "Almost there!"

Moe and Hans decided to pull themselves out of the trench and ran forward to help. Hans ran behind Joey and began pushing him towards the line whilst Moe grabbed the reins and helped Wally and Albert pull the horse towards the trenches. A few more soldiers ran to where the horse would enter the trench to help lower him in.

At the German trench, Franz watched helplessly as the German soldier with the sniper rifle aimed chose his target out of the now four strong group of British soldiers and the horse. He rested his finger on the trigger and smiled.

"Goodbye, _Englander_," he said.

The group had reached the trench with Joey. Moe had jumped in and, with the reins still in his hands, was carefully trying to lower Joey into the trench. Hans ran to the front of the animal with Albert and Wally and also began pushing him in.

"Alright, gently now," Wally said as the other soldiers ran forward to help.

Joey hesitated at first to be lowered in as if he was scared, which, in a way, he was, but was soon forced to as Albert, Wally and Hans began pushing him into the trench. Gingerly, he stepped in with one hoof and then the other. Albert began pushing the back of him into the trench, desperately trying to get his rear legs in.

Suddenly, Albert was thrown forward with a yell and he fell into the trench.

"Albert!" Wally exclaimed, jumping into the trench and rushing over to his friend. Another soldier helped Wally pick him up and carry him down the trench and into a long section of trench and place him in a small square shaped hole in the left trench wall which was a medic post.

Wally knelt down beside him. "Are you alright, Albert?" he asked.

Albert had his hand over his arm and was gasping heavily and gritting his teeth as the pain from the bullet swept through him.

"I-I'm…f-fine!" he managed to say. "W-where's J-J-Joey?" he asked.

Wally looked over his shoulder to see the horse standing in the trench. Moe and Hans took him by the reins and began leading him towards the long section of trench. He smiled and looked back at Albert.

"He's fine," he said. "We got him. He's safe,"

Albert smiled. They had done it. They had finally found Joey and rescued him, though Albert had been wounded in doing so, but it was only in his arm and not his head. So that was it. They were done.

Albert raised his injured arm, which made him gasp out in pain, and rested his hand on Wally's arm.

"Wally," he said. "Thanks. I owe you one,"

Wally chuckled and watched as Joey was led past him. Their little mission was suicidal, but it was done and they had succeeded. Joey was safe and soon to be reunited with Albert.


	58. A friend leaving

**The next day**

**August 17****th**

Today, clouds were covering the sky above the Somme sector of the Western Front. Rain fell lightly from them but most men still wanted to keep themselves dry by putting their coats over them or resorting to taking cover in their dugouts or holes in the side walls of the trenches. Some, however, were still taking their duties as a soldier seriously and were not going to let the rain deter them from keeping their eyes on their enemies. In both the British and German trenches, there were soldiers lined up along the trenches with their weapons aimed out across No Man's Land, but they were barely noticed as being different. This happened every day in rain, sleet or shine that seemed to hit the frontline. It was raining in other parts of the Western Front as well, but soldiers had other things to worry about, particularly to the north of the Somme sector where the Germans had launched a small offensive determined to try and gain a few trenches, maybe even break through the British line.

Behind the Thiepval area of the Somme sector, on a small army railroad station, a train was waiting to pull out and take away the wounded and those on leave duty from the front. There were many carriages, some for wounded men and others for horses. At the moment, the train was preparing to take the last few wounded and horses away from the front.

Outside one carriage, Wally, Moe and Hans were standing over Albert, who was on a stretcher with a large blanket drawn over his body. His three friends had their coats on and had come through the rain to say goodbye to him for this might be the last time they see him.

"You'll be alright," Moe told him, kneeling down and patting Albert's shoulder.

"I hope you come back soon," Hans said.

Wally knelt down. "If you go home, you'll be able to look after your horse," he said to Albert, who smiled at him.

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, I will,"

"Alright, get the last of the wounded on board," a nearby officer ordered. "Right, c'mon. All those not get in on for home leave or injuries clear off now, c'mon!"

"We better go," Hans said to Moe and Wally. "See you soon, Albert," he said to him before walking off.

"Yeah, see you soon, Albert," Moe said and he walked off after Hans.

"Well, get well soon," Wally said to his friend and turned to walk away after Moe and Hans.

"Wally, wait!" Albert said.

Wally stopped and turned to face Albert. "What is it?" he asked.

"I just want to say thanks, Wally," Albert said. "Thanks for helping me look for Joey and finding him and for helping me save him. I really owe you one,"

Wally chuckled a little "There's no need, Albert. And I was glad to help,"

Albert smiled. "I'm glad you did,"

"Oi, you!" a nearby officer barked at Wally. "C'mon, bugger off!"

Wally nodded. "Bye, Albert," he said and walked away after Hans and Moe.

"Bye, Wally," Albert replied and two stretcher bearers came over and lifted Albert up.

They took him over to the open door of the carriage behind him and passed him to another two stretcher bearers. When he was inside, the door closed and the officer standing on the platform nodded to the driver, who had his head poking out of the window, waiting to see if it was clear to go. The driver disappeared back inside the train and, a few moments later, the train began to move forward.

Wally, Hans and Moe, who were standing under the roof of the train station, watched as the train drove onwards down the rail, disappearing within a few seconds.

"Well, that's another one gone," Hans said.

"I'm surprised he's still alive," Moe said. "He's the first one to live since…well, since Robert died,"

Wally nodded. He was going to miss Albert and he managed to hold back a few tears. Though, they were not ones out of sadness, but out of happiness for Albert's horse Joey was on that train as well, and they were both going to the best place they could think of.

They were going home, back to Great Britain.

"Right, c'mon, let's go," Moe said and he and Hans walked back into the station to catch a truck back to the trenches.

Wally half-turned to join them but he stopped and took one more look at the place where the train had been and smiled once again. He was happy that Albert was going home, back to his horses and his family to recover. If only… If only the same thing could be said for him.

"Hey, Wally!" Moe called. Wally faced him. "C'mon, let's go!"

Wally nodded and ran off after his friends to get the truck back to the trenches.


	59. Two more gone

**Three days later**

**August 20****th**

The bad weather for the Western Front had finally passed during the night and the summer feeling was in full swing again as the sun shone brightly in the blue sky and the gentle breeze blew through the air once more. It was a good feeling, one that all the men on both sides were hoping to enjoy to It's fullest, and were also hoping to make the most of it as summer would be over soon and the weather would begin to get colder and eventually pave the way for winter.

In the trench on the British area of the Somme sector of the front, Wally stood facing No Man's Land, looking out across the muddy wasteland of death that stretched on forever in both directions. Moe and Hans were in the dugout playing a game of cards and Adam was off at the HQ at the hospital. A few dead soldiers, both German and British, were visible lying among the mud for there had been a morning attack by the British and, like always, they had retreated back and the Germans had given chase, only to do the same thing. About sixty men on both sides were killed but still it just went on. Further right a few miles down the line, the distant booms echoed from. The Germans were launching a bombardment of the area, probably in preparation for an attack, but it was very likely to be doomed to failure for all attacks before in the past had failed.

As Wally looked around the great wasteland in front of him, one of the soldiers sitting in the machine gun nest looked up from behind the sandbag wall and peered around towards the German trenches. After a moment of looking, he suddenly lowered his head bent forward and fired a burst of ammo across No Man's Land.

"Have I got the bastard?" the soldier asked himself.

He looked up from behind the sandbag wall and looked across No Man's Land for a second before he lowered back down behind his cover. Neither a look of happiness or annoyance came onto his face so it was unknown whether he had killed the German or not. Wally just shook his head and resumed looking out across No Man's Land as if he would find something that would occupy him or at least something that would make the day liven up a little.

"Hey Wally?" a voice inquired.

He looked behind him to see Adam walk out of the long section of trench and into the frontline trench. Wally's face fell a little. What did he want with him now?

"Yes, sir?" Wally replied.

Adam walked up to Wally and looked around "I need to talk to you," he said. He walked towards the square shaped hole and sat down in it, resting his back against the right wall. "In here," he ordered.

Wally obeyed and sat down across from him in the square shaped hole.

"What is it you need to talk to me about, sir?" Wally asked Adam.

Adam sighed and thought for a moment in how to explain this to Wally. It was not going to be easy and he had found it hard himself when he had found about this about half an hour ago. After heaving another sigh, he began to talk.

"It's Albert," he said.

"What about him?" Wally asked.

"When Albert left, he was on a train, wasn't he?"

"Yes, and now him and his horse are on the way back to Great Britain by boat by now,"

At these words, Adam looked down at the ground. Wally only took one look at Adam's face and he knew something was not right.

"What is it?" he asked. "H-has something happened to him? If something has; what is it?"

Adam heaved another heavy sigh. "His train…stopped in a small village about thirty miles north of here," he explained. "They needed to pick up some more wounded from the trenches." He paused, realising it was going to be hard to continue this and what Wally's reaction might be, but he decided to press on. "It was then…um, that it happened,"

"That what happened?"

"The village was bombarded by German shells and then a few bombers," At these words, Wally's eyes went wide with disbelief. He shook his head slightly, not able to believe what Adam was telling him but Adam just looked at him, holding his sorrowful look as if to say _"What I'm telling you is true," _and Wally buried his face in his hands. "The train was completely destroyed along with most of those on board," Adam continued. "Albert and this horse of his were among the dead,"

Wally just shook his head in his hands but when he looked up, Adam was still looking at him sorrowfully. No. No, this could not be happening! Albert and Joey could not be dead! They had to be alive!

"They have to be alive," Wally, who looked up from his hands, whispered to Adam, who just shook his head.

"No, they're not," he replied. He sighed again. "I'm sorry, Wally," and with that, he moved out of the hole, stood up and walked back towards the dugout.

Wally buried his face in his hands again for a second before rising his head up again. He wiped away a tear from his eye. He could not believe it. Albert and Joey, two friends who he had helped during their time here… They were both dead. This could not be happening!

He would just have to hope Albert and Joey were alive, but with what Adam had just told him, that was almost impossible to happen.


	60. Little hope left

**Eleven days later**

**August 31****st**

The good weather of summer was beginning to draw to a close. The sun which had ruled the skies for most of the season was now being pushed aside by the clouds and the gentle breeze was slowly becoming stronger and the heat that had once filled the air was also beginning to subside. Soon, autumn would be upon the Western Front and then winter would follow.

The nights, however, seemed to be immune to the change in weather. When it was cloudy in the daytime, the sky became clear at night, especially now as the full moon would be revealed as it was the end of the month, and the stronger breeze had calmed to a gentle one again. Night time was always perfect in the summer. It was so peaceful and calm and was far away from the danger and the threat of dying in the trenches.

Outside the hospital behind the frontline, Eve sat on the bench with his arms outstretched along the back, looking up at the sky. Even though she did this pretty much every night, she occasionally looked towards the path to see if Wally was walking towards her. She had been waiting for several nights now and she was beginning to think he had forgotten about her and it was annoying to find that someone who she really liked, and had admitted that loved her, was no longer seeing her.

She heaved a heavy sigh. As much as she had been annoyed by him, she had been worried about him as well. The last time she had seen him was just after Adam had grown angry with him after realising that Wally had not killed any Germans whilst he had been away. Wally had left worried and she had not heard from him since so either the feud between the two was still going on, or something had happened.

_What if…_Eve thought.

No! No, of course that had not happened! She mentally hit herself for thinking that. Why had she even thought of it anyway! That had not happened to him!

Or had it?

Then, as she looked ahead again, her eyes rested on someone approaching from the path. A smile crept onto her lips. It was Wally.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me," she said to him when he was a few feet away.

"No," he replied. "It'll take a lot more than a few weeks to forget about you, Eve," 

He sat down net her. "Sorry I haven't been able to come and see for a while," he told her. "But I've had a bit of trouble back in the trenches."

"Why, has Adam been giving you trouble?" Eve asked him.

"Well…partly, but the main reason is about this new recruit that came into our squad," he answered and he explained everything to her about what had happened over the past two months with Albert and him looking for his horse, finally finding it, then saving it and then Albert and his horse leaving. However, after he had told Eve about when they had left, his voice began to grow a bit sadder and she noticed it quickly and knew why when he began explaining to her about what Adam had told him earlier on this week.

"So after Adam told me that their train had been hit by bombs and shells, I just lost all hope in thinking they were finally safe," he finished explaining.

Eve placed a hand on his shoulder and moved up the bench slightly. "Wally, I'm sure they're fine. I'm sure they were rescued,"

Wally shook his head. "No, Eve. They're dead, I know it. I have to face the fact that they're gone and all the hope I had for them has died with them."

"Wally, don't talk like that."

"I'm sorry, Eve, but I have tio face the fact that they're dead, just like all the others,"

"Others?"

Wally nodded. "The big difference between Albert and all the other members that joined the squad I'm part of is that they all came out here to prove themselves, but they did later regret coming out here like me. But Albert was different. He didn't want to come out here from the very start. He only wanted to come out here so he could find his horse and then try and find a way of getting themselves back to England. I really liked him, but…" he heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his hand up and down his face once before moving them away from it. "…I hate myself because…I've moved on from his death."

Eve sighed. "Wally, I am really am sorry that he died, but…moving on from his death is a good thing. I mean, you can't mourn him forever,"

"I know that, Eve!" he replied sharply. He sighed. "Sorry, but I'm scared. What if…what if one day…It's just me out of the squad? All the new recruits get killed, but…what if one day one of the old recruits from my squad like Moe, or Hans, or Adam? What if they get killed and It's just me on my own?"

"Wally, that won't happen," she told him softly. "I mean, your all experienced. You know the dangers of the front and how things happen, so you can survive through it and I'm sure the others will," 

Wally sighed. "You're probably right, Eve, but I'm not letting my hopes get too high. I've done that too much and all the time I have, It's been met with death. I just don't know what to do anymore,"

He buried his face in his hands for a moment before he curled one into a fist and placed in front of his mouth, thinking hard about what could happen in the future. Eve was really taken by this. She had never seen Wally be this upset by something. Obviously, Albert's death had really had a big impact on him, but him believing that Moe, Hans and/or Adam could die soon really shocked her. However, in a way, she could not blame him. It was this war. With death a constant threat, who would not be scare to think that their friends and comrades might be there one day, and then dead the next?

After a moment's silence between the two, Wally raised his head and looked at Eve.

"But, you were right about one thing, Eve," he said to her. "You were right that Adam is beginning to accept the fact that I can't kill. He's been a bit nicer to me over the past few weeks, so I think he's finally accepted it."

Eve smiled a little. "Well, that's something good that's happened over the past few weeks. At least you and him could be friends again like you were before," she said.

Wally nodded a little. "Yes. I hope me and him become friends again," he replied.


	61. Reconcile

**Three days later**

**Date: September 3****rd**

With the arrival of September, the good weather that had once dominated the skies of the Western front with endless sunshine and boiling heat was now becoming a sky dominated by clouds and the boiling heat was being replaced by a welcoming cooler breeze. Yet, in a few months, the men on both sides would be wishing it was summer again for when winter set in on the Western Front, it would be freezing cold and raining so it was best to enjoy the cooler weather now whilst it was still good.

In the British trench west of Thiepval, Wally was on sentry duty, standing up, though he had his knees bent a little to make himself less of a target, looking out over No Man's Land with his rifle aimed out across the wasteland. Hans was sitting in the square shaped hole behind him with another soldier called Brian, a nineteen year old Scottish soldier from a farm outside a small village called Lauder, which was not far from Edinburgh, and Moe, believe it or not, was on home leave, having been given it yesterday and he was now most likely on a ship heading back to Britain. He had promised to write to the two whilst he was away and had joked to them: "Try and stay alive while I'm gone," Wally and Hans had laughed at this, but they were a bit nervous though. They did wonder whether one of them would die whilst Moe was gone. Hopefully, that would not happen but it would be up to fate to decide whether they lived or not.

As Wally looked across No Man's Land, another soldier further down the trench to his right fired a shot. The sound of the shot rolled across No Man's Land for a second before fading. Silence followed. Then, another shot, though more fainter so it was obviously from the German lines, filled the air for a second or two before fading. Then, silence fell again and the soldier went back to searching around with his rifle for a target.

A small bang behind Wally made him jump and he looked over his shoulder to see Hans with a frustrated look on his face and Brian with a smug. Between them was a small piece of cardboard that was their 'table' with a pile of cards on it.

"Righ', how many times is tha' now, mate?" he asked.

"Three," Hans grumbled in an annoyed tone.

Brian chuckled. "Well, I can' say it ain't bee' good," he said.

"For you it has," Hans replied. "But for me, it hasn't,"

Wally chuckled. "You guys are going to go mad over these card games," he said.

"Well, I jus' want to win one," Hans replied, looking at his friend. "Just _one_,"

"Don' worry, mate," Brian told him. "You'll win a game eventuall'. You'll jus' 'ave to wait,"

"Yeah, and that's something I'm not very good at," Hans grumbled.

Brian smirked and Wally just shook his head and rolled his eyes and resumed looking out across No Man's Land. Behind him, he heard Brian offer another game to Hans, who only groaned in reply and moaned that he would lose, to which Brian reassured him he might not, but Hans was most likely to be right.

Wally only laughed a little. His mood had been better recently since… He sighed. Since Albert's death. It was still having an effect on him, but, and he really hated himself for doing this, he had just fully moved on from it. Like Eve had said to him three days ago, he could not mourn Albert forever, but what was still having an effect on him about the death of a really good friend was that he had come here for a different reason. He had come here not for the thrill of adventure or to prove himself as a man like Wally and almost all the other men here had. He had come to find his horse Joey and save him. They had succeeded in the end, but it…it just had to be that night when they were going through that village when it was being shelled by the Germans. He sighed again and set his mind back on his duty at the moment, trying to forget about Albert and Joey, even though they still lodged in his mind.

Suddenly, a hand rested on his shoulder and Wally jumped right out of his skin. He turned to face the person who the hand belonged to and saw it was Adam.

"Oh," Wally said at seeing his captain. "Hello, sir," he said.

"Wally, can I have a word with you?" he asked in a voice that sounded more like demanding rather than asking. 

Wally looked at Hans and Brian, both of who quickly set their minds back on their game, and heaved a quiet sigh.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

Adam did not reply and turned and walked back to the dugout; Wally followed. Behind him, Hans and Brian watched him go and looked at each other with concern and uncertainty. They were expecting Adam to either have a go at Wally or tell him something bad. They went back to their game and waited for what would happen.

Adam led Wally into the dugout and he faced him.

"Sit down," he said.

Wally obeyed and pulled up a crate from under the table and sat down on it. Adam pulled up another crate from under the table and sat down on it, facing Wally.

"I have something to say to you, Wally," he said.

Wally sighed. "If It's something to do with a death of a friend or something about Albert or who's joining our squad next just…just please tell me now," he said.

"What?" was Adam's reply. "Wally-"

"No," Wally interrupted him. "Look, sir. Just…just please! I've had enough of things being told to me slowly. Just…please tell what it is. Just cut to the chase, please!"

Adam looked at him for a second before he nodded.

"What I was going to say to you is nothing to do with Albert or anything from home or who'll be joining the squad next," he told Wally. "It's…It's something…I personally have to say to you,"

Wally gave him a puzzled look. Not because he was confused about what Adam meant, but because this was something Adam personally had to tell him. What could Adam tell him that was personal? Was it something good, or bad?

"What is it?" Wally asked.

Adam cleared his throat. "I…I'm…" he trailed off and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry,"

Wally eyes grew a little. H-he was sorry? Then, his eyes went wider and a small smile crept upon his face. He was sorry!

Before Adam could continue, Wally grabbed his hand and shook it hard, which surprised Adam.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" he said happily. "Thank you! I forgive you!"

"I haven't even told you what I'm sorry for," Adam protested.

"I already know why you're apologizing," Wally replied, smiling at him as he let go of his hand. "And I forgive you, sir!"

Adam was shocked, but after a few seconds, he managed to smile as well and nodded a little.

"Well, I'm glad you know and I'm glad I told you and you forgave me," he paused and gazed out through the dugout entrance. "I finally realised what a berk I've been, trying to force you to kill…It's not been right and I've realised that now," he looked back at Wally. "Well, I hope we can put that behind us now,"

Wally nodded. "Sure,"

Silence fell between the two for a few moments, only interrupted by the noise of men talking outside in the trench.

"Um…" Wally finally said after a few moments and Adam, who was looking down at the floor as if to find amusement in the silence, looked up at him, patiently waiting to hear what Wally wanted to say. "Sir…I've been meaning to… Well… ask you something for a while," he continued.

"What is it?" Adam asked.

Wally tried to speak but the words got lost in his mouth. He was worried that Adam would take what he was going to ask him the wrong way, but it could not hurt to try.

"I…I w-wanted to-to ask you… where…why you've been going off quite a lot…recently," he said.

Either he had said something that had annoyed Adam or he had surprised him because as soon as Wally finished speaking, Adam's eyes went wide, but Wally quickly saw they were not wide with anger or annoyance, but more like with…shock and maybe a little hint of embarrassment.

"Um…" Adam replied, quickly trailing off. "T-that's my business," he said.

Wally looked at him questionably as if to ask why, but Adam quickly saw this and was not going to be fooled and before Wally could say anything more he stood up and moved his crate back under the table with his foot.

"Alright, go back outside on sentry duty," he ordered quickly, but calmly. "Go on, Wally!" he pointed to the dugout to let him k now he was being serious.

Wally was confused, but he decided it was best to follow his captain's orders and he got up and walked towards the dugout entrance, though when he reached it, he stopped and took one last look at Adam before he walked out back into the trench.

_What was that all about? _He mentally asked himself as he walked back towards where he had been on sentry duty a few minutes earlier. Why had Adam suddenly gotten shocked and embarrassed? And why did he not tell him where he had been? There was obviously something Adam did not want him to know, and he was doing a good job of it for Wally had not the faintest what it could be? Was it planning for an offensive? Or were they moving to another section of the trench? Or was it something else?

In time, it would probably come to reveal itself and Wally set his sights back into sentry duty as he reached the space of wall in front of the square shaped hole where Hans and Brian were locked in another game, which ended a few moments later and, unsurprisingly, Brian won.


	62. A letter from Hal

**Ten days later**

**Date: September 13****th**

Another cool day had descended on the Somme sector of the Western Front. The sky was again dominated by clouds, though the sun had managed to make several breaks through the clouds to allow light to reach the ground below. A cooler breeze was now blowing in the air. This was just the right weather that the men on both sides of the front were used to. Truth was: the Somme sector had seen some of the best weather this year, especially in the early and middle months of the summer. Obviously they had had rain, but not a lot of it, though this did create an unpopular feeling that soon all the rain that could have had the chance to fall on the Somme throughout the year would be dumped on them in the later parts of autumn and winter. The men in the British trenches had heard that Britain had also had a good summer, one of the best in quite a while so that warmed the feeling that life was good back at home.

In the trench, Wally was lying down on his bed reading his _Oliver Twist _book, which he was over three quarters of the way through, with his head resting on the pillow and his army boots on the floor next to his bed so he could rest his feet, which he had hanging over the end of his bed. He had been up for part of the night on sentry duty with Moe and Hans, it having been their turn to go on sentry duty in the trench. He had wolfed down part of a baguette he had bought a few days ago when they were off the front for the weekend and was now relaxing, trying to enjoy the bit of peace he had now in the middle of this war.

As he turned the page of his book, a loud snore caught this attention and he groaned. Hans was asleep in his bed and Moe was awake, just resting his eyes, but he too sat up from Hans' loud snore.

"Oooooh!" Moe groaned as he rubbed his eyes. "What the bloody Hell is that racket?"

"It's Hans" Wally answered and, as if on cue, Hans let out another snore.

Moe sighed in annoyance and crawled to the end of his bed where his rucksack was hanging from one of the banisters. He grabbed it and put it on his lap and rifled through it. Wally watched him and, after a few seconds, Moe pulled out a clip of ammo. Wally sucked his teeth and quickly buried himself back into his book, waiting for the fireworks to go off.

Moe rose up a little and threw the clip of ammo at Hans, hitting him in the face.

"AH! OI!" he shouted as he sat up, placing a hand on his cheek.

"Shut yer' trap then, will ya'!" Moe barked at him. "I'm tryin' to get some sleep!"

Hans sighed and shook his head. "Ain't my fault if I can't 'elp it," he told Moe.

"Well then I'll tie a rope around yer' face and tighten yer' mouth shut!"

"Shut up!"

Moe glared at him but said nothing and laid back down on his bed and closed his eyes. Hans laid back down on his bed and also closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes. Thankfully, this time he was not snoring, for the moment at least.

Wally rolled his eyes and continued reading. Those two may have looked like they disliked each other but they were just tired. I mean, who would not be after spending much of the night on sentry duty and being woken up all of a sudden. It was enough to annoy anyone. Though they were lucky Adam was not here or he would have barked at them to shut up.

Adam. Like a firework, his name exploded and filled Wally's mind. He looked over at his bed and saw, as usual, it was empty. He was away on this 'business' at the headquarters. It was really weird why he was doing this every day. What Wally had found very strange about him recently was that when he had asked where Adam had been, he had looked as though he had been given an electric shock and told Wally to go back out on sentry duty. What was this business of his and why had he sounded as if he did not want Wally to find out about it? It was strange, very strange.

As Wally went back to his book, the sound of voices from outside the dugout filled the air, followed by footfalls on the wooden floor of the trench. A man called a name and a soldier's voice called back in reply. More footfalls, though this time they were louder until they came to a halt, directly outside the dugout entrance by the sounds of it.

"'Ey, mate?" a voice inquired in a northern accent. "D'you know where I can fin' these guys? I go' a load of letter's for 'em,"

"In that dugout next to you," another voice replied.

"Cheers, mate," the northern accent voice said and a second later, a medium height soldier with blonde hair, green eyes and was rail thin, stepped into the dugout and looked around for a moment before his eyes rested on Wally. In his hand were three letters and on his back was a rucksack filled with more letters, which Wally could see as one was poking out of the top.

"'Ey mate," he greeted warmly. "You er…" he turned over one of the letters in his hand. "You Wallace Burt'?" he asked.

Wally nodded and the soldier walked over and handed him one of the letters.

"And er…" he turned over the other two letters. "These peopl' Moe an' Hans 'ere with ya?"

"Yep," Moe replied as he sat up. The soldier tossed him his letter, which Moe caught, and, assuming this was Hans, dropped his letter on his stomach, which made Hans groan and sit up slightly.

"Cheers, guys," the soldier said, holding up his hand as if to say thanks, and turned and walked out of the dugout back into the trench.

"What the Hell was he doing?" Hans asked, rubbing his eyes, obviously annoyed at being woken up again.

"We jus' got a few lettr's delivered to us," Moe replied, opening his letter. Hans looked down on his stomach and saw his letter and opened it.

Wally put his book and opened it and took out a small folded piece of paper and opened it up. He eyes went wide, at first with shock, but they were quickly replaced with joy.

It was a letter from Hal. Excited about this, he began to read it to see what his brother what telling him.

_Dear Wally,_

_Sorry I haven't sent you a letter in a while. The last one I hoped to send to you got hit by a bullet in the last battle at Ypres. I only made it out of there alive then and I'm still counting my blessings. _

_It hasn't been easy here. The Germans have been stepping up their assaults quite a lot and High Command here thinks they're going to try and attack us again. I hope that doesn't happen. Also, It's been hard making friends. Earlier on this week, I met a new soldier called Rupert, a Welshman from Swansea. He was a really nice person and he had a great sense of humour. Yesterday we went on a spy mission to try and scout out any build up or new defences in the German line and he got a bullet right through the head, killed him instantly._

_I hope to go home soon and visit mother and father. I really miss home. Oh, and sorry this is late, Happy Birthday._

_Your brother,_

_Hal._

Wally smiled as he finished reading the letter. Wow. This was a strange thing. He had not heard from his brother in months, but what the Hell, he was glad he was still alive and okay and-

Wait. He glanced down at the letter again and his eyes went wide. Happy Birthday! He had completely forgotten about his birthday! It in June this year and, now that he had remembered it, he was now eighteen years old, now he was a man. Wow! Now that was a real shock to him, but something stuck out a little in his mind. What was it?

Then, he remembered and his eyes went wide again. Oh no! Yesterday was Hal's birthday!

Wally grabbed his rucksack and threw it open so quickly that he drew Moe and Hans' attention from their letters, both of who were from their family back at home.

"Are you alright?" Hans asked him.

"Yes," Wally answered quickly as he rifled through his rucksack to find a bit of paper. Damn! There was none in his bag. There was a pen, but he needed paper to send a letter back to Hal, but where could he get paper?

Wait, the soldiers that delivered mail often carried bits of spare paper.

Scrambling to his feet, knocking over his rucksack onto the floor, he rushed out of the dugout. Hans and Moe watched him go and looked at each other, filled with confusion.

"What the Hell's up with 'im?" Hans asked.


	63. The Battle of Loos begins

**Twelve days later**

**September 25****th**

Another cool day had descended onto the Western Front. The sky, however, was now completely covered with clouds that hung in the sky like a thick blanket. The cool breeze was now starting to grow a little colder, signalling that the warm weather would soon be over for the Western Front. Better weather had been predicted for later on in the week, but temperatures were also beginning to get milder as autumn set itself down onto the world. Soon, it would be the freezing weather of winter that would be bearing down on the Western Front and, despite it being Christmas and a possible break from the fighting, the men on both sides were not looking forward to it.

In the trench, Wally, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, emerged from the dugout and rubbed his eye with his hand and yawned. He had had very little sleep the night before because the Germans had launched a small barrage on the trench in retaliation for the British bombarding the German trenches earlier yesterday afternoon. A few men had been reported killed and another few tens were wounded by shrapnel.

"Hey, what the rush?"

Wally looked left down the trench to see a small group of soldiers gathered around the square shaped hole. Curious, Wally walked down the trench to join them. As he reached the group, he saw Hans among them and he squeezed through a gap between two soldiers and stood next to him.

"Alrigh', Wally?" Hans greeted.

Wally nodded. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Apparentl', we've launched an attack at Loos," a soldier, who was sitting in the square shaped hole with another soldier sitting across from him, said.

"I wonder'd what the barrage was intend'd fer," another soldier standing next to the right end of the hole replied.

"Wait, what's going on?" Wally asked the soldier sitting in the hole.

"Haven't you hear', mate?" the soldier asked Wally, who shook his head. "We've launched an attack at Loos,"

**Meanwhile, at the village of Loos**

The air in the village of Loos was much different than at the Thiepval area of the Somme sector further south. Rather than have a few bullets and a few shells and mortars attacking both sides, bullets from rifles, machine guns and even pistols were flying in all directions. Clouds of smoke hung in the air and shells flew from the British lines at the Germans, who fired mortars in return. The village of Loos, which had already been shattered badly by shellfire for much of the past year, was now reduced almost completely to rubble.

Through the clouds of smoke, waves of figures were marching towards the German lines. They were British soldiers, mainly from the UK but there were also many black colonial soldiers here. Indians from the Royal Indian Army that came the country that was described as being 'the crown of the British Empire'.

**(Note: Before the Battle of Loos had begun, the British had ordered a barrage onto the German lines in an attempt to weaken their defences, which was usually done in any offensive launched by both sides. However, the scale here was enormous. Rather than fight for just a handful of trenches or one or two trenches, the British had hoped to take an entire sector of the German side of the Western Front under their control and then destroy the German army in the Artois sector, another area of the front in sight of the British army. Once the German army here was destroyed, the British and French armies along the entire Western front would attack whilst the German army was reeling from the assault and resume the attack back towards Germany. What makes Loos a significant battle in WW1 is that it is the first time the British army used gas on a large scale. Released early in the morning just before the attack on the now devastated Loos and surrounding villages was to begin, it had inflicted some damage on the German lines, but not as much as planned.)**

Among the British soldiers, an Englishman officer led a group of four soldiers, two of them from Britain and the other two from India. The two British soldiers were Roy, a medium height nineteen year old with black hair and blue eyes from Birmingham and Ian, who was tall and rail thin with blonde hair and brown eyes and was about eighteen years old and was from London. The two Indian soldiers were Arjit, a tall black soldier from Bangalore with short black hair and brown eyes and was about twenty years old, and Oojam, who was quite small with more of a brownish colour to his skin as he was from an area of India that was near the border of Afghanistan, with black hair and green eyes and was about nineteen as well.

The officer's name was Aston. He was about thirty nine years old and was tall with brown hair, but was greying in several places, and had a small grey moustache. He had blue eyes and was from Southampton. He had been in the army a year, having joined shortly before the war had begun, and had been deemed lucky to survive this long in the trenches. He, however, was also different from other commanders. As the Indians were from a British colony, they were not treated with much respect from their officers or from most soldiers from Britain, but Aston, as I said, was different. He did treat them with respect and he even had a few friends among the Indian soldiers who had served under his command. This was deemed strange by other officers and soldiers and he knew, even behind his back, that he was looked upon as a friend to just colony soldiers who were expected to die for the empire as the other British soldiers were doing, but he let them think what they wanted about him. Besides, he really could not care less. He was just trying to survive this war and make sure his men did as well, but that was easier said than done.

The wave of British soldiers moved across the wasteland towards the German lines. They had managed to take the first line of German trenches intact and were advancing across to the second, which they believed was also clear. So far, everything was going to plan.

"Right, c'mon, look sharp, keep moving!" a nearby officer barked at his squad of Indians, who were struggling to keep up with their officer as the ground was peppered with shell holes and they were weighed down with equipment.

Aston sighed and shook his head slightly as he looked on ahead of him. The cloud of smoke was beginning to clear a little now and, though _very_, _very_ faintly, he could just make out the top of a few dugouts and trench walls. They were about half-way there.

_Not far now _he mentally said to himself to calm him down a little.

"Um…excuse me, sir?" a thick accent said from behind and Aston looked over his shoulder to see Oojam walk up to him and walk alongside him.

"What is it, Oojam?" Aston asked.

"I…I will…be….alright, won't I?" Oojam asked him in his struggling English, worry in his eyes.

Aston rested a hand on Oojam's shoulder and smiled at him a little to try and reassure him. Oojam was a quiet lad, but he was enthusiastic. In fact, if Aston remembered correctly, Oojam's very name apparently meant enthusiasm.

"You'll be alright, Oojam," he said. "Just a few more moments and we'll be safe,"

Oojam smiled a little and his worry seemed to partly fade from him. He nodded and looked on at the German trenches, a little more enthusiastic now but as Aston move his hand from his shoulder, he saw that worry still lingered in Oojam's eyes.

"C'mon, just leave 'im!" a voice shouted from Aston's left and he looked to see that the officer he had seen barking orders at his group of Indian soldiers a few moments earlier was now telling them to leave one of their comrades, who had fallen over and was struggling to get up as his equipment was weighing him down, behind. One of the Indian soldiers tried to help his comrade but a white British soldier grabbed him and pushed him back towards the German trenches, almost throwing him to the ground.

Aston looked on hopelessly. He wanted to go and help that soldier. He wanted to help him continue on rather than leave him. He would probably be in for trouble for doing so, but he really did not care. Just because these soldiers were colonial soldiers from India, they still deserved help. He stepped towards the soldier to go over and help him…

BOOM! The ground was suddenly thrown up into the air in a big explosion. Aston and a few other soldiers were thrown to the ground by the blast. BOOM! BOOM !BOOM! More explosions erupted everywhere across the wasteland, throwing many more soldiers to the ground, some never to rise again.

Aston groaned as he sat up. Oojam, ignoring another nearby officer who shouted at him, ran over to help him up.

"Are…y-you…alright, sir?" Oojam asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine," Aston replied, brushing a load of dirt off himself.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!"

Suddenly, soldiers all around them were dropping to the ground like flies. Zipping sounds whipped past them. Bullets! Aston looked at the German trenches and saw several figures standing there. German soldiers!

Suddenly, a cry filled the air, somehow overpowering all the others from other soldiers that were hit. Aston looed next to him and saw why.

Oojam had been hit!

Kneeling down next to him, Aston pulled back Oojam's uniform on his chest and saw two bullets holes, one in his chest and another in his stomach. Aston went wide-eyed and looked at Oojam, who was gasping for breath. He looked at his officer.

"S-s-sir!" he gasped.

"I'm sorry, Oojam," Aston replied. "I promised you that you would be okay,"

Oojam just smiled a little.

"And you were right," Aston looked at him. "You were right,"

Oojam took one more breath before his eyes closed and he went into the deep sleep from which he would not awaken from.

Aston sighed and grabbed Oojam's hand and clutched it tightly as if to say a final farewell before he stood up, after taking one more look at Oojam's body, continued on towards the German trenches.

Behind him, other soldiers continued to march on past the body of a fallen comrade as if he was not there. His body would either be blown apart by shells or would be buried either by men or rain and mud.


	64. A Christmas truce this year?

**Thirteen days later**

**October 8****th**

Tonight was a different night to many that had been before. Rather than be completely clear, it was almost completely covered with clouds with only a few tiny breaks in them, giving only a small glimpse of the stars on the other side. Still, though, it was peaceful and it was all quiet behind the front. There were no shells falling or bullets flying, which was exactly what was happening in some parts of the front, especially in a small section just a few hundred metres to the south of the trench where Wally was stationed. Luckily, it was not an offensive, just a last minute shell attack by the Germans before the two sides settled down for the night, but it would be the last for many on both sides.

At the hospital behind the front, Wally and Eve were sitting on the bench, talking as usual. Eve's white apron was bloodied slightly from where a wounded soldier had come in earlier and she had to tend to him and some of the blood from his side, where shrapnel had torn into him, had gotten onto her. The soldier was still alive, for the moment, but another doctor had examined him and said he had only a small chance of survival and would probably last only a few more hours, maximum is the night if he was lucky.

Wally was just explaining to Eve about what had been happening over the past few weeks since he had last seen her. He had told her about Adam apologizing to him, then he told her about when he had received a letter from Hal and realised it was his birthday, which Eve had laughed at, and he was just telling her about the battle raging up at Loos and what he and the others in the section of the trench he was in had heard about it.

"Officers have just been telling us we're winning but nothing else," he said to her. "Do you think Loos will be captured?" he asked Eve

"Probably," she replied, resting her back against the bench. "I mean, with all that's going on up there at the moment and with the casualties your side has inflicted on the Germans, I'd be surprised if you lost, but I don't think you will,"

Wally nodded in agreement. The officers had been telling them that they had inflicted heavy casualties on the Germans and were capturing the surrounding villages around Loos and were trying to break through the German line to push them back into the Artois sector and destroy them. For the moment, to many soldiers and back at home in Britain, it looked as though the offensive there was to work and soon break through the German line and begin a push back towards Germany. However, one thing that Wally and many soldiers knew was that they had made no mention of the casualties to their side. For all they knew they could be light or heavy. Some even suspected that the officers were probably even lying about the British winning the battle at Loos and believed they were probably losing and being driven back.

"Hey, Wally?" Eve asked and he looked up at her.

"Yes, Eve?" he inquired.

"I've been thinking and I need to ask you something," she told him.

Wally went a little wide-eyed. Sh-she needed to ask him something! Could it be…could it be about them? Maybe it was? His breath got caught in his throat and he tried desperately not to look embarrassed or shocked. He took a deep breath, after managing to control himself, and nodded.

"Go ahead," he said and she looked at him.

"Remember when you were here one of the last times, just before you met Albert? You told me about a…what was it…a Christmas truce last year. Well, and this'll probably sound really strange, but…d'you think there'll be another Christmas truce this year?"

Wally looked at her and began relaying what she had said to him in his mind. Actually, as strange as it was which he mentally admitted, it was a good question. Last year, he and the Germans, among them an old friend of his who had lived in the same village as him back in Britain, had come together and forgotten about the war for as few days and celebrated Christmas as friends. Would it happen again? Maybe, but there was a chance it might not because with all that's happened over the last ten months here and up and down the front with both sides attacking each other in large scale offensives and using gas, he actually began thinking to himself if both sides would receive each other warmly as they had done last Christmas.

"Well, d'you think there'll be one, Wally?" Eve asked him again, snapping him back into reality.

He sighed. "To be honest with you, Eve," he said. "I really don't know, but I will say I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't because if you think about what's happened over the last year along the entire frontline, we kind of hate each other more than we did back then,"

Eve nodded in agreement. Wally did have a point. The two sides were definitely more enemies today than they had been last year. Last year, this trench warfare had literally only just started and it had only been a few months old, and the two sides came to grasp the horrors of it quickly, but that all last year. This year, as Wally had put it, with all that had happened in many offensives and attacks by both sides up and down the entire Western Front, there probably would not be a truce.

Well, they were going to have to wait and see what fate had to offer them.


	65. The end of the Battle of Loos

**October 14****th**

**Loos**

Over the Loos section of the front, it was pouring with rain. The mud in No Man's Land was like sludge and was very slippery, which the men on both sides quickly found out by an attack from the British and many of them slipped and fell over, making themselves easy targets for the German machine gunners. The sky was covered with dark clouds and they showed no sign of breaking or moving.

In the new British trench located in a small field on the east side of Loos, captain Aston was sitting in a small hole in the trench wall, looking at a small photograph of a black man with a pretty young black woman who was holding a bundle of blankets which held a baby. Aston sighed through his nose as he looked at this photograph, which had been doing much recently since the start of the battle. This photograph was of an Indian soldier that had been under his command. His name was Oojam.

Aston folded up the photograph in his hand and looked up at the dark cloud covered sky. Oojam had been killed on the first day of the battle just moments after Aston had told him he would live. Now, obviously, he would not live through the war and go home to his wife and child. He was another casualty, but many more Indians and colonial soldiers would fall before all of this fighting as over. He had managed to get hold of this photograph from Oojam's body just before it was to be taken away to be buried.

A drop of rain fell onto the end of the photograph, which was partly sticking out from his hand. Aston opened the photograph and used part of his coat to dry it. It had been raining non-stop for the second day in a row. At least it was stopping any more attacks being mounted because the entire British attack on Loos had been a disaster. At first, it had been going well, but then things began to go off rails. Attacks launched on German trenches were halted by their machine guns, which cut to pieces tens, sometimes hundreds, of men, a gas attack by the British some time ago had gone partly wrong as the wind blew the deadly chemical cloud back towards the British trenches, affecting over 2,000 men and now this bad weather was delaying any further gains the British could make. At least, though, this rain was a blessing in disguise because even though it was preventing the British from making any further gains, it had brought an end to the start of the offensive which had been renewed yesterday, possibly saving hundreds, if not thousands of lives.

Unfortunately for Aston, his squad had been among the casualties, as had he. Just five days after Oojam had been killed, Arjit and Roy were killed in attack along with many other British and Indian colonial soldiers. Then two days after that, Aston had been wounded by shrapnel but, thankfully, it had not penetrated too deep into his body and was removed that night and he was returned to the front the next day. Then, a week later, Ian and two other soldiers, one from Scotland and the other from southern India, were killed by a German mortar attack as they made their way across No Man's Land during an attack. Seeing many of his men under his command die had affected Aston but he had just grown used to it as he knew he could not mourn them forever.

"Captain Aston," a voice said and he looked up to see another British captain, who was elderly looking, about middle fifties, with a grey moustache and was quite fat, walking up the trench. Aston moved out of the hole and stood up.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, standing up straight and putting his heels together.

"I need you to keep a look out for two of our boys," the officer said to him. "They're going to spy on Jerry's lines and report back with anything that might be of use to us. Keep an eye on 'em and report back to me what happens,"

"Yes, sir," Aston replied.

The officer nodded and walked off. Aston watched him go and sighed and stepped forward towards the wall of the trench and took out a pair of binoculars and looked through them across the vast wasteland of No Man's Land towards the German trenches about one hundred and fifty feet away. A few wet drops hit the glass of the binoculars and slid down them and Aston wiped them away with his hand.

"Alrigh', over ya go!" a voice said from down the trench and right, Aston saw two young men run out from the trenches into No Man's Land. They dived into a shell hole and poked their heads up over the side of the shell hole to look at the enemy trenches and see if they were going to fire on them. For the moment, the Germans looked as though they had not noticed them, but whether that was true or they were waiting for them to get closer to fire on them was not known.

"They'll be lucky to get even half-way," Aston muttered to himself as he resumed looking out ahead of him across No Man's Land.

When he did, he saw something different. Squinting his eyes…this silver thing he could see… It…it looked…looked like a…a helmet. It was the helmet of a German soldier, but what was one doing there in full view?

Then, the helmet moved up a little and something rose up. Then, the soldier moved back a little. Why was he-

SMASH! The glass on the front of the binoculars shattered and Aston was thrown backwards onto the trench floor, a bullet hole in his forehead right between his eyes. The binoculars thudded loudly as they landed next his outstretched hand, which was the one with the photograph of Oojam. The rain fell hard on his body and the photograph was tipped out of his hand and into a small hole between two of the boards that made up the trench floor. The mud and rain quickly buried it to be a forgotten relic of a fallen soldier, lost in the ground until it was, or may, be found in years to come. For now, though, it would just be part of the ground underneath the trench.

"Oh dear, oh dear," a nearby Scottish soldier, who had his thick green army uniform coat draped over him and was kneeling down on a small mud seat further up the trench looking out over No Man's Land, said as he looked down at Aston's body. He looked over his shoulder and shouted out: "Stretcher bearers!" before resuming looking out across No Man's Land at the German trenches.

Aston's body was taken away moments later, another casualty of war but nothing different to what had been taking place here for the past few weeks.

**(After many costly, and sometimes failed, attacks on the German trenches, the British slowed down their assault on Loos, which had been captured, and the surrounding villages. Eventually, on October 13****th****, the British had renewed their attack but further heavy losses, combined with poor weather, which struck later that day, forced the assault to come to an end. The Battle of Loos was officially over, a British pyrrhic victory (a victory which the victor had suffered heavier losses than the defeated side) with only part of the intended ground captured. The offensive, however, had failed to push back the Germans into the Artois sector and begin a massive push towards Germany along the entire Western Front. British casualties in total were between 43,000-50,000 dead with German losses only around half as much, estimated to be about 25,000 dead. What marked this offensive as a victory but also a blunder for the British army was that it was the first time in It's history it had suffered so many casualties from one battle. Loos was to be the second before last offensive made by the Allies, the last being a third battle of Artois which ended in a stalemate, before the end of 1915.) **


	66. Revealing why

**October 29****th**

For the Western Front, the weather was certainly getting colder and the days were getting grimmer. The breeze that blew in the air was now much colder than it had been before and the skies which were normally dominated by clouds nowadays were bringing rain with them, sometimes only a little, other times a lot. Both sides were getting bogged won by this change in the weather but they were still determined to fight each other, and plus they knew that this was only the prelude to the freezing cold weather and the possible continuous rain and snow that would come in just over a month's time.

In the British trench, things were no better. There was a small level of muddy water about ankle high, having been brought into the trench by rainwater and causing the mud to slide into the trench. Normally, nobody would be out if this kind if this kind of weather back home in Britain, but this was the trenches and here they could not just leave. They were just going to have to stay here until the water either drained away or was taken out using buckets. That was being planned, but they would not arrive for a while so, until then, the soldiers would just have to put up with it.

In the trench, Wally, Hans, Moe and four other soldiers were on sentry duty with another two lying down in the machine gun nest, which was at a bit of a raised angle facing No Man's Land, keeping it slightly out of reach of the muddy water covering the trench floor. They were talking amongst themselves, some leaning on the muddy wall that marked the border of the trench and NO Man's Land, others standing and talking. Some of the soldiers were smoking cigarettes, no surprise Hans and Moe were among them.

Wally was leaning on the mud wall above the side of the trench, looking out across No Man's Land. There were a few dead bodies scattered about across the mud wasteland in front of him, a mixture of both German and British. They were the result of two failed scouting missions by both sides. Earlier last night, the Germans had sent a group of four soldiers to try and scout any new positions or sign of a build-up of British troops in the trench. The sight of the bodies made it clear that it had not gone according to plan. The two men that had been in the machine gun nest at the time saw the Germans and fired on them, killing all of them. A few hours later when things had calmed down a bit and the night was beginning to come to an end, the British had sent a group of four men to scout out the German lines, only to be met with the same fate that had befallen the Germans. All had been killed. Both sides since earlier on this morning had remained tense, waiting for whatever move the other side would make.

"Are you alrigh', Wally?" a voice asked him and he looked to his left to see Moe looking at him, a cigarette in his hand.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," he replied. "Just keeping watch,"

"Ah, why don't ya come and 'ave one of these?" Moe held up a cigarette.

"You know I don't smoke, Moe,"

Moe smirked. "Ah, you haven't lived until you've 'ad one of these, Wally,"

"Well, I've heard that you won't live much longer if you keep smoking those things as well,"

Moe shrugged. "Sure I can't tempt you?" he tried one last time.

Wally nodded. "Positive,"

"Alright, your loss," Moe turned and walked over to Hans.

Wally rolled his eyes and resumed looking back out across No Man's Land. _Actually, my gain really _he thought in response to Moe's words.

Everything across on the German side was calm. He had only just seen a bit of movement, but no one was really firing. Both sides were probably finally getting the impression not to fight, for the moment at least.

Then, the sound of a small splash made him look right and he saw someone walk up the long section of trench towards the rear trenches. It was Adam. He had been in the dugout, where a few sandbags had been placed over the floor of the entrance to stop the water from flooding in. He was probably going to see where all the buckets were to get rid of this water.

Wally, however, was curious. Just before he, Hans and Moe had gone out on sentry duty earlier today, he had seen Adam going through his bag again and looking at something. Obviously, like before, he had quickly stopped doing that when the others had gotten up. What was it he was keeping from the others?

_Now that's he's gone…_ Wally mentally said to himself.

Maybe he could quickly go and see what was in his backpack and find out what it was he was keeping from them.

Looking back over his shoulder, he made sure no one was watching. Moe and Hans were too busy talking and smoking with the other soldiers. It was the perfect time to move.

Wally walked down the trench, trying to stop his feet from splashing loudly in the muddy water, towards the dugout. When he reached it, he took one more look to make sure no one had noticed he had snuck off towards the dugout. No one had. The two soldiers in the machine gun nest had had a look at him as he walked past but they quickly went back to looking across No Man's Land at the German lines. He was okay for the moment. He stepped over the four sandbags on the trench floor in the dugout entrance into the dugout.

It seems that Adam had tried to stop all of the water from getting into the dugout, but had not done it in time. The floor of the dugout around the entrance was wet from where some of the muddy water had flooded in earlier on. Well, at least it was not over the entire dugout floor, otherwise it would have been a complete disaster for them. Wally looked around the dugout and saw on Adam's bed his open backpack. Upon seeing it, he was struck with a thought over whether this was a good idea to look into Adam's backpack. Part of him said it was not a good idea, but his curiousness overtook him and before he could stop himself he walked over towards his bed and sat down on it and looked into his backpack.

Apart from a few rifle cartridges, a letter and a small piece of baguette, most of which he had eaten for his breakfast this morning; there was nothing much in there. Well, what was it he was looking at and not wanting the squad to see? What was i-wait a minute.

The letter. Could that be it? Maybe it was. Wally took the letter out of the backpack and saw that it had been opened. This was it, there was no doubt. There was not anything else in his backpack that he would be keeping from them. Wally checked one more time to make sure. No, there wasn't anything else in there. So this is what he had been keeping from them, but what was in this letter he did not want them to se-

"I thought I'd find you here,"

At these words, Wally shot up from the bed, knocking Adam's backpack to the floor, and turned to see Adam standing a few feet from the doorway, his army boots dirty from where they had been through the muddy water. Fear instantly filled Wally. Oh no! He was in big trouble! He could see it!

"A-Adam!" Wally stammered in fear as he looked down at his hand with the letter and then back up at Adam.

"I forgot to take my backpack with me," he replied in an annoyed voice. He stepped over towards Wally and took the letter from his hand and put it back in his backpack.

"I would prefer it if you didn't go through my things, Wally," he said as he put his letter back and put his backpack at the end of his bed before turning to face Wally, who gulped and braced himself for what was to come. 

Then, he was met with a surprise. Adam did not yell at him or hit him. In fact, his annoyed look just faded from his face all of a sudden and he looked very calm.

"Sit down, Wally," he said

Deciding it was best not to argue or ask why., Wally did so and Adam sat down next to him and sighed.

"You've been wondering why I've been keeping something from you and the others haven't you?" he said to which Wally nodded at. "Well, this something is actually _someone_. And this is someone that really means something to me,"

Wally gave him a confused look. It was obvious he did not quite understand and Adam saw this so he grabbed his backpack and placed it on his lap and opened it up and took out the letter again and opened it.

"This is what I've been keeping secret," he said as he took out a black and white photograph and handed it to Wally.

He looked at the photograph to see a young woman of about twenty dressed in a light coloured dress with light coloured hair, probably blonde, with a small pretty face and was smiling at the camera.

"She's pretty," Wally commented.

Adam nodded and smiled as he looked at the photograph. "Her name's Wendy. I met her when I was on leave when I got wounded earlier this year and went home. I sent her a few letters and she's sent me a few,"

Wally smiled at Adam and then back at the photograph before handing it back to Adam, who put it back in his backpack.

"So, wait," Wally said. "Is this why you've been up at the hospital a lot recently?" he asked to which Adam nodded at.

"I've been checking every day to see if I have any letters from her," he told Wally. "I got that one yesterday, the first in about three weeks,"

Wally laughed a little. "I find it really strange that you and Wendy are able to have a strong relationship even though you're in France and she's back him in England,"

"Well…It's not really that much different from your relationship," Wally's eyes went a little wide went Adam said this as if he was shocked, or scared, that he knew of his relationship with Eve, but Adam reassured him. "Don't worry, I know about you and that nurse. She told me about you and her were together. Anyway, yours and Eve's relationship isn't really that much different from mine and Wendy's. I mean, apart from the fact that you and her are closer together to see each other than me and Wendy and that you're of different nationalities, if you really think about it, you two are not much different from me and Wendy," Adam concluded.

Wally nodded in agreement. It was surprising to find out why Adam had been away from the front so many times and he was relieved he had not been angry with him.

The sound of metal outside came into the dugout and the two looked towards the dugout entrance. Just as they did, a voice from outside in the trench called out: "'Ere were are, lads. Now we can finally ge' rid of this wa'er,"

Adam smiled and stood up. "We best go help," he said to Wally, who nodded and stood up and walked out after Adam into the trench to finally get rid of the muddy water.

Wally was happy that Adam had finally found out why Adam has been away from the front so often, but he was even happier that he was with this woman. Adam deserved her and, hopefully, he would soon be able to go and see her again.

That was provided, though, that he survived until then. 


	67. Return of an old adversary

**Twelve days later**

**10****th**** November **

For the Western Front, it seemed winter had come early. A cold breeze would blow through the air as soon as day broke and would last almost until dusk, sometimes it would stop at midday if the soldiers were lucky, and there had only been three days so far without any rain, which at least had been light rather than heavy. Still, though, the fighting up and down the front continued on. Neither side was going to give any ground, but both sides were hoping that it would be soon. Until then, they would have to continue this bloody war.

Over the Somme area of the front, the sky was covered with white clouds and were pouring with rain. Luckily, this time there was not a small river flowing through the trenches as there had been a while ago. Out in No man's Land, though, most of the craters from grenades, shells and mortars were filled almost to the top with muddy water and the ground out in the wasteland was much more slimy and thick. Any chance of an attack by either side would be bogged down and therefore present them with a ticket directly to death, and both sides knew about it and, for now, they were happy that it was raining.

In the British trench, Wally and Hans were on sentry duty whilst Moe was sitting in the square shaped hole behind them, talking with another soldier called Jacob from Bristol. Adam was off somewhere again, but Wally knew where he was. he had found out a few days ago about why Adam had been off the front so often for the past few months. His love interest Wendy had promised to send him letters and every day he was going to the hospital to see if she had sent him any.

"So d'you think this coul' be over by Christmas?" Moe asked Jacob.

"I hope so," Jacob replied. "I mean, It's gone on for a year. Surely, they'll give up,"

"I doubt it," Hans piped up, drawing the two's looks.

"What makes ya' say that?" Moe asked him.

"I dunno, I just think they could go on," he told them, looking over his shoulder at them. "And if ya think about it, we 'aven't really let off a little ourselves, 'ave we,"

"He's got a point," Wally said. "With all that's happened this year, I'll be surprised if we do leave or at least have a cease-fire,"

Moe and Jacob nodded in agreement. Neither the Germans nor the British had let off the flow of men coming to the front and there had been no word of a future armistice or cease-fire, for the moment though, but they just kept feeling like something like that would not happen at all. The really shuddering question was: what if they were right? What if this war continued on until one side either finally gave up or was completely destroyed? If that was to be the result of this war, then it was obvious that it would continue on for God knows how long. A few months, a few years? No one knew.

As Wally turned his head back to look out across No Man's Land, a shot sounded from somewhere further up the trench. Silence fell across the land for a moment before two more shots, though they were more distant than the first, followed and then silence fell once more. That might be another man dead, but that was not going to do anything to deter one side from fighting on. In fact, it would only strengthen their resolve and make them fight on.

"Hello, everyone," a voice further down the trench said and Wally, Hans, Moe and Jacob looked down the trench towards the dugout to see a familiar person emerge from the long section of trench that led towards the rear trenches.

"Adam!" Wally exclaimed. "Anything happen?" he asked as Adam walked over to them.

"Yep, and It's not good," he replied.

"Why, wha's wrong?" Hans asked.

"Let's just say, our old friend is back," he said. The others looked a bit confused and, just as he was about to reply, a voice from the rear trenches shouted something and he looked towards them and pointed his finger towards the rear trenches. The group looked, Moe and Jacob standing up to look, and saw a familiar person with a backpack walking down the long section of trench towards the frontline trench.

"Oh, great!" Hans groaned.

"And just when I thought he was gone for good," Moe said.

It was Gomer. Well, this was going to be good with him coming back to the front.

Gomer walked into the trench and glanced at the dugout and then up the trench towards the group.

"Ah, good your all still here!" he said in a cheery voice as if he were glad they were alive and he began walking up the trench towards them.

_I wish I wasn't _Wally mentally said to himself.

Gomer stopped a few feet from Adam and Wally and forced a small smile on his face.

"I'm glad you're alive, sir," he said to Adam. "When I heard that you were back here I was actually very happy,"

"Were you now?" Adam replied sarcastically.

He, Wally and the others knew very well Gomer was of course faking this. He had been more than happy to take command of the squad after Adam had left the front after being wounded and he knew Adam had decided to no longer like him after he had told Wally he could no longer stand Gomer.

Gomer's smile faded from his face and it began to turn into a bit of a glare. "Yes," he said. He looked at them all and sighed. "Well, it appears that I was not really missed," he said,

"Who would," Moe told him, receiving a glare from Gomer.

"I wasn't talking to you, soldier!" he growled.

"And I don't think any of us will either, Gomer," Adam interrupted, drawing Gomer's gaze. "I think you need to know no one here really likes you,"

"Well, I'm not here to be liked, sir!" Gomer hissed back. "I'm here to help in winning the war and bringing glory home to Britain and not be a coward like some people here," he looked towards Wally when he said the last five words and Wally glared at him.

"Yeah, you call yourself a goo' soldier, yet you were wetting yourself when you wen' out there and almost got us and y'urself killed!" Moe retorted.

Gomer glared at him but did not reply.

"Oh, is that true?" Adam asked in a surprised voice, looking at Moe and then turning back to Gomer. "So this is the great Gomer who told me he was a good officer, and yet he runs when he's in combat and acts like he's a brave person,"

"Oh, rest assured, sir, I will make sure that will change and I hope-" he looked at Wally again. "-that it teaches some other people a lesson. Now if you excuse me, I have to go and unpack," and with that, he turned and walked back towards the dugout, disappearing from sight as he walked inside it.

"Oh dear," Adam said. "I have a feeling things will get very hectic now that he's back," he said.

Wally nodded in agreement. "I'll be really surprised if they don't,"


	68. Between the eyes

**Thirteen days later**

**November 23****rd**

The weather had certainly been going further downhill for the last few weeks. The cold breeze was now beginning to pick up a little and it seemed to get colder every day and the clouds in the sky above much of the Western Front, especially at the coast around Ypres, had not lifted and seemed to bringing endless downpours of rain. The weather for winter had already come early and now the soldiers on both sides of the front were going to have to put up with it for another few months until spring broke. Until then, it would be another cold winter and there was no doubt that many could die or be taken off the front before it was all over.

In the dugout in the British trench west of Thiepval, Wally was sitting on his bed, reading his _Oliver Twist _book, which he had only a few more pages left to read before it was finished, Moe was sitting on his bed with his legs dangling down over the sides, cleaning his army boots, which had been covered in mud after a recent trench attack, with a slightly damp bit of cloth and Hans was lying down on his bed with his eyes closed and with his head resting on his hand which were placed behind his head on his pillow. He was not asleep, but he was resting his eyes. Gomer, who was sleeping on the bottom bunk bed next to Moe's, was lying on his side, facing Moe's bed, having been on a mission for most of the night that had left him exhausted and Adam was off again somewhere, not at the hospital though. This time he was doing something else, something to do with a meeting behind the line in the village.

"Bloody Hell, c'mon!" Moe hissed.

"Everything alright?" Wally asked, looking over the rim of his book at his friend.

"Nah!" Moe replied. "This…bloody mud…It's staine' and won' come off!"

"Why don't you use a bi' of wa'er?" Hans asked, still keeping his eyes closed and not looking over at him.

"I did and It's not help'd a' all,"

"Well try again,"

Moe went to reply when a loud and strangled-like snore broke out from Gomer and he groaned a little as he turned over on his back. Moe and Wally looked down at him with grimacing looks and Hans opened his eye and looked over at him.

"My God!" Wally said.

"He's even worse than you, Hans," Moe said.

Hans gave Moe and annoyed look but said nothing. Gomer let out another loud and strangled snore, though this time he sounded like he was sniffing at the same time, and snoozed on. Wally groaned and placed his book over his head as if to try and block out the noise.

"Someone please shut him up," he groaned.

"Alrea'y on i', Wally," Moe replied and he picked up a bit of dry dirt on the end of his left boot with his finger and flicked it at Gomer, hitting him in the nose. Instantly, as if he had been shocked, Gomer shot up from the bed and looked around for a second as if he was trying to find something before he saw what was on his face and, looking over to his left and seeing Moe with his muddy boots and dirty cloth, glared up at him and furiously wiped the bit of dirt from his face.

"What the bloody 'ell d'you think your playin' at!" he demanded furiously.

"Trying ter' get you to shu' up with your bloody snorin'!" Moe replied. He made a strangled snoring noise, mimicking Gomer's before glaring back down at the officer. "My God, ya' sound like a bloody pig!"

Gomer's glare deepened but he said nothing.

Just then the sound of many heavy footfalls on hard wood outside in the trench filled the air in the dugout, followed by several shouts. Hans sat up and Wally looked over from his bed at the dugout entrance with everyone else.

"Wonder what that's all about?" Wally asked.

"Let's go see," Hans said and he got up and ran over to the dugout entrance. Gomer followed him with Wally next and Moe, who quickly fumbled with putting on his army boots, bringing up the rear.

The four ran out into the trench to see a group of about four soldiers gathered around two other soldiers who were on sentry duty, both of who had their rifles aimed out across No Mans' Land towards the German trenches. Gomer pushed past Hans and walked over to the group with Hans, Moe and Wally following behind him.

"What in Gods' name is going on?" he demanded.

"I think we might 'ave an enemy officer in our sights, sir," one of the soldiers, a young man of about twenty two with blonde hair and green eyes, replied.

"How can you tell?"

"Well, remember the shelling we launched at the Boche the other day, sir?" the other soldier asked and Gomer nodded. "Well, it made a bit of a hole in their trench wall facing us and anyone who walks past it is in perfect position for one of us to have a pop at him, sir,"

Gomer smiled a little and looked out across No Man's Land towards the German trenches, moving up in between the soldiers.

"Well don't stand there, boys," he said. "Can you see him?"

"Yes, sir," the soldier on Gomer's right replied.

"Then take a shot,"

The soldier nodded and aimed his weapon across No Man's Land. The other soldiers standing behind him, Gomer and the other soldier with his rifle aimed out across No Man's Land watched intently, some looking across No Man's Land at the German trenches, waiting for the shot to happen to claim the life of the German officer they could apparently see. Silence passed over them like a rolling fog.

Then, the soldier on Gomer's right fired a shot, which rolled across the wasteland for a moment before silence fell on the warzone once again.

"Did you get him?" Gomer asked eagerly.

"I…I thin' so, sir," the soldier replied, looking up from his weapon at the German trenches. "I can' really tell though, sir, but I do think I 'it 'i-"

WHOOSH! BOOM! An explosion erupted just a few feet up the trench from the soldier on Gomer's left. The soldier screamed and fell to the trench floor, dead. The others dived to the floor, covering their heads so as not to be hit by shrapnel. Another whoosh filled the air, followed by another explosion that threw one of the soldiers that had been watching to the trench floor, killing him, and wounding another with shrapnel to the legs.

As Wally looked up, he saw Gomer quickly rush to his feet and run past him down the trench towards the dugout.

_Typical _he thought as he watched Gomer disappear into the dugout.

Another whoosh filled the air and landed in the machine gun next, blowing apart the sandbag wall there and tearing the machine gun in two. Then silence fell onto the frontline again.

"Ryan, what're you doing?" a soldier lying on the ground hissed and Wally looked to see a tall, young looking soldier of about eighteen with black hair and blue eyes and a look of anger on his face, shoot up from the trench floor and stand up, directly in view of the Germans' line of fire!

"You bastards!" he shouted. "You killed my mate! When I get my hands on you all, I'll-"

Suddenly, he was thrown backwards against the back trench wall and he moved no more. The other soldiers looked up to see a bullet hole in his forehead, right between his eyes, both of which were wide open but no longer held any emotion in them. No happiness or grief or anger, but also no pain.

One of the soldiers sighed and sat up a little. "Stretcher bearers!" he shouted out and they all stood up.

"Poor bugger," Hans said as he looked down at the soldier's body.

"At least it was quick," Wally replied.

Hans and Moe nodded and turned to walk back into the dugout. Wally stared down at the soldier a little longer, moving to his side a little to allow the other soldiers to pass, and wondered what life he had left behind back at home. Probably a mother and a girlfriend that would join the hundreds of other families that would be devastated to hear the news of the death of a son and a lover.

Sighing, he turned and walked back to the dugout. Behind him, two stretcher bearers came and picked up the body and placed it on the stretcher and walked off with it back into the long section of trench to the rear trenches.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter again to private Len Smith, who, in his book 'Drawing Fire' wrote of his eye-witness account of a soldier who had been hit between the eyes and killed instantly after shouting at the Germans following a shell burst in his trench. **


	69. A parcel from home

**Thirteen days later**

**December 10****th**

The arrival of December had brought a colder front of weather to the Western Front. The cold breeze that had been blowing through the air had now turned almost ice-like, cutting through everyone. Also, there had been rain and frost over the last few nights and now there were tiny little frozen pools of water scattered in shell holes across No Man's Land. Even bits of mud themselves had hardened a little having been turned to ice by the change in weather.

In the trenches, the men were already feeling the effects of the cold. A few had been taken out of the frontline from having caught frostbite and trench foot, everyone was trying to wrap up warm with coats, tunics and some even their own bed covers, though these were not really much good as they were thin and sometimes ragged and torn, and there was even a few small fires going on up and down the trenches or on the ground behind the trenches in which men were gathered round in trying to keep warm. Soldiers had to trek through the trenches to get to the fires and it was dangerous from sudden attacks or shell or mortar bursts. Before, they could easily set up small fires on the ground between the trenches and gather around them. However, that was no longer possible as the two sides, after having been involved in a year of fighting that had involved deadly new weapons and resulted in thousands being killed on both sides, now showed much more hatred and anger for each other and if any soldier even attempted to set up a fire on the ground between the trenches, he was almost certainly going to end up getting a bullet put in him by German or British snipers.

Leaning against the wall of the trench opposite the one facing No Man's Land was Wally. He had his coat on and it was buttoned up as far as it would go but even there he was still cold. He was rubbing his hands together, which he could barely feel as the cold had gotten to them overnight when the frost and cold had turned particularly bad, as hard as he could in hopes of creating even a little warmth. He even tried breathing on them to make them warm but it was not really working very well. Every now and then., a cold breeze would blow through the air and Wally would shiver madly as it cut through him like a knife through warm butter.

Up and down the trench there were other soldiers doing what he was doing in trying to keep warm. Some were leaning against the trench walls whilst others were sitting in the square shaped holes scattered up and down the trench or in the machine gun nests.

"Oh, bloody Hell!"

Wally looked up from breathing into his hand to see Hans emerge from the dugout, wrapped up in a coat. He was shivering a little, which Wally noticed as his shoulders rose up a little before resting.

"You alrigh'?" he greeted Wally as he approached.

Wally nodded. "It's freezing," he said. "I didn't think it would get this bad this winter,"

"Neither did I," Hans replied.

Another cold breeze blew through the air and the two shivered madly.

"Oooh!" Hans groaned. "C'mon, les' go sit down," he said.

Wally nodded in agreement and the two walked over to the square shaped hole in the trench wall and sat down in it. As Wally went to sit down in the hole, his eyes caught sight of the body of a soldier lying in the middle of the ground, between the trenches, about three metres away. The soldier's name was, or had been, Daniel. He was a resident from London and had arrived only a few days ago, a new baby to the front Wally had thought at the time. However, he had tried, like many others on both sides, to start a fire closer to the trenches rather than behind them last night and obviously the result was what lay in front of Wally right now. A German sniper had seen him and shot him, the bullet going right through his back. The medics had not even bothered to try and recover the body as they would be putting themselves in danger and left it to rot. Wally grimaced and ducked down into the hole.

"Ah! That's better," he said, resting his head against the wooden wall behind him. It was still quite cold, but at least they had some protection against the wind.

"Where are the others?" Wally asked Hans, who was bringing his knees up to chest.

"Adam's off at the 'ospital again," Hans explained. "Moe and Gomer have gone off to one of the small fires behind the frontline with a bunch of other laddies. The officers are lettin' every soldier take their turn," he looked out back into the trench hopefully. "Can't wait for when we ge' to go and sit around one of 'em,"

Wally nodded in agreement. Hopefully, that would happen in a few days' time, maybe even today or tomorrow. Until then, he would have to try and keep warm as best he could. He tried rubbing his hands together again to try and create a bit more warmth.

"Hey, Wally?" Hans inquired.

"Yes?" Wally replied

"D'you know why Adam's off at the 'ospital?"

Wally went silent for a moment, as if overcome with shock with what Hans had asked him. Should he tell him why Adam had been going off to the hospital almost every day? If he did, what would his reaction be? Or should he just lie and say he did not know why?

"No," Wally replied. "Why, did you think I knew why he had been going there a lot?" he asked Hans.

"I suspec'ed it," Hans replied. "I saw you go into the dugout not long after he got back and he went in there and I though' he would've told you,"

Wally shook his head. "No. No, he didn't,"

"Oh, okay," Hans replied, though he did not sound very convinced but decided not to push on questioning Wally any further.

As the two went to rest their heads against the wooden walls of the hole behind them, footfalls on wooden boards filled the air and the two looked out from the hole and saw a soldier with a backpack approaching. Sticking out of the backpack on the soldier's back were a few letters, quickly identifying him as a soldier who delivered mail.

"Alright lads," he greeted, stopping in front of the hole. "I think I might 'ave a few for you two," he took off his backpack and began rummaging through it for a few seconds, muttering to himself, before he finally pulled out a letter. "That's for you," he said, handing it to Hans, who thanked him, and he resumed rummaging through the backpack and took out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. "And this is for you, mate," he said.

"Thanks," Wally replied, taking the parcel from the soldier as he put the backpack back on

"Right see ya lads," he said and he walked on down the trench.

Wally looked down at the parcel and saw a small bit of writing scribbled on the front of the brown parcel. It read: _Wallace Burtt_, giving Wally a slight indication on who this might be from.

"Ah, It's from me' mother," Hans said, reading a piece of paper from the open letter envelope, which lay on his knees. "Just goin' back to the dugout, Wally," he said to him. Wally nodded and Hans moved out of the hole and walked down the trench, holding the open envelope and the letter in his hand.

Wally began opening the brown parcel, ripping it with a bit of eagerness like a child opening presents on Christmas morning. Before him was a small piece of paper that was a letter with a small bunch of cigarettes and a small plain cake. Wally smiled a little and picked up the piece of paper and opened it up and began to read it.

_Dear Wally,_

_I hope you're having a good time out there at the front. It's been a long time since we expected you home but I hope you've been giving the Huns a good hammering and kicking them back and serving your country. Life here at the farmhouse has been quite quiet without you and Hal here, but we've been coping alright._

_Your mother made a few cakes the other day and she wanted to send one out to you with a book of photographs taken over the last few years of all of us, both together and individually. Hope it would give you a little comfort if you were feeling homesick, also to try and remind you what you're out there for. Good luck my young soldier._

_Your father, John  
P.S: your mother sends her love._

Wally finished reading the letter, but…there was something different about him. He was not happy and smiling like he normally would when he received a letter from a family relative. Instead, he was…just empty. He was not enthusiastic about this. He just felt…as if…it was pointless sending it to him. So much so that he creased the letter in his hand and crushed the bit of paper into a ball and threw it out over the trench line into No Man's Land.

_A feeling from home_ he mentally repeated as if he was reading the letter again. _That's something I haven't felt for a long time._

He looked down at the remaining items in the parcel he had received. He was not going to do anything with the cigarettes himself as he did not smoke and he could look at the book later. The cake… A small smile crept onto his face and he climbed out of the hole and walked back down the trench towards the dugout to sort out what he had been given.


	70. An early Christmas present

**Later that night**

The clouds of the night sailed peacefully over the night sky, obscuring the light from the full moon and the stars that hung in the ever stretching blackness that hovered over the world. A cold, but gentle breeze blew through the air and the few leaves remaining on the trees nearby blew with the wind. It was a really beautiful winter night.

Sitting on the bench outside the hospital behind the frontline was Wally and Eve. He had arrived a few minutes earlier to meet Eve, who was waiting outside the hospital with a small white coat on and they had sat down on the bench. Her apron hung down from under her coat and it was slightly stained red from having received another truck load of wounded soldiers earlier on. As usual, they were talking and Wally was telling her about the parcel he had received earlier on today from home.

"I looked in and it had a small book filled with photos of me and my family and a few cigarettes and one of my mothers' cakes and a letter from father," he explained to her and she smiled a little.

"I bet you were glad to finally hear from your parents," Eve said.

"Oh…" was Wally's reply and he looked down at the floor.

"What's wrong?" Eve asked him, a little concerned.

"Nothing," Wally replied. "It's…It's just that…I, well I wasn't….really, y'know…happy about getting this parcel from home,"

"Oh," Eve replied. "Why's that?" she asked him.

"Well… After a spending a year at the front and watching men be killed on both sides slowly and painfully and having to live with the fear of being killed every day…I just don't feel like…anything from home is a good thing anymore. Not that I think it's bad or anything like that…but," he paused for a moment and looked up at the sky. "It just feels strange,"

Eve nodded, taking in what Wally had told him. She had to admit, she had spent a long time away from home and a few days ago she had received a letter from her mother telling her of what had been going on at her home. And she did find it strange, but then again she was happy as well to hear from her family, but Wally thinking getting something from home was strange… She just…well, she just could not help but think…that…this was the prelude to something that might happen.

She mentally hit herself. _No, that's stupid! _She told herself. _That won't happen to Wally_

Wally sighed and rested his back against the back of the bench. "I don't think home, my real home, is a good thing for me anymore," he said.

"Wally," Eve replied, resting a hand on his shoulder and moving up the bench a little to be closer to him. "C'mon, look at me," she said to him. He did so. "Now, c'mon. Your just being irrational. Okay it may sound different now but you'll get over it soon. I bet when you go home, you'll be overjoyed to see your parents again. It may not look like that now, but you will do when you go home,"

"That's only if I survive until then," he replied lowly. "I mean, I don't know if I'll get home leave and I may have to wait in the trenches until the war's over,"

"No, you should get home leave soon. You might get it next year at some point,"

Wally nodded a little in agreement. Maybe he would do, but he just could not keep out the thought if going home was a good thing or not. Was it? He had spent so long here at the trenches seeing men he knew be killed right in front of him, living through shell barrages that could tear men to pieces and lived with the very fear that he might see the sunrise one morning but then no longer be around to see it set that day.

Also, there was what had sent him out here in the first place. Would it be possible to go back to-

A cold breeze blew through them and the two shivered.

"Jeez,… It's s-so cold!" Eve replied, grabbing her coat and pulling it on a little more to try and strengthen It's protective wall of warmth.

Wally nodded and did up the last two top buttons of his coat. As he did so, he looked at Eve and saw that her coat was quite small, smaller than his.

"C'mere," he said to her and pulled her close to him, unbuttoned his coat and wrapped the side around her. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said.

"It's okay," he replied.

He felt warm in his coat but he wanted to make sure she was not going to be freezing cold as well. He looked up at the sky again and then down at her white hair that blew gently in the breeze next to her shoulder blades. His hand on the side of the coat wrapped around Eve moved up into it. It was so soft, and so beautiful.

"Just like her," Wally muttered under her breath as if replying to his mind.

"Sorry?" Eve asked, looking up at him.

"Oh," Wally snapped back into reality and met her gaze. "Nothing, nothing," he replied. "Oh, in fact, I have something for you," he said.

Eve sat up a little and watched as Wally reached into his left coat pocket and took out a small object covered by the brown paper that had been Wally's parcel.

"I saved it for you," he said, handing it to her.

She opened up the brown paper and it was revealed to be a small plain cake within it. She smiled and looked up at him.

"Oh, thank you," she said.

He smiled back. "It was sent in the parcel earlier on today, but I didn't want it so I thought I would give it to you,"

Her smile widened and she wrapped up the cake in the brown paper again. "I'll save it for later," she told him. Then, to Wally's surprise, she leaned towards him and kissed him on the cheek. At once, he blushed a little and smiled a little. He felt his cheek burn suddenly with warmth as if Eve was a source of warmth herself. It felt…amazing.

"Are you alright?" she asked him when she saw the small smile on his face.

Again, he snapped back into reality and chuckled a little. "Y-yes! Yes. I-I'm fine!" he replied.

She giggled and, putting Wally's gift in her coat pocket, she moved up next to him again and rested her head on his shoulder again.

"Thanks again, Wally," she said.

"It's alright," he replied. "Just…think of it as an early Christmas present,"

She gave a small chuckle in reply and the two resumed looking up at the sky, entranced by the beauty it held.


	71. A good Christmas gift

**Fifteen days later**

**December 25****th**

Christmas Day, a national holiday for much of the world. It was early morning. Usually around about this time, people all over Europe and America and other parts of the world would be waking up and enjoying the gifts they had received for Christmas and would be looking forward to the Christmas dinner later on that day. Soon it would be the start of a new year for the world.

For the soldiers in the trenches though, today was just another day at the front. Though they were stuck in the midst of a war, probably the worst in history, there was actually quite a good Christmas aurora in the air on both sides. Soldiers singing Christmas hymns and songs or enjoying cigarettes with each other and talking about home and their families. They were just wanting to bring about a bit of happiness to the front. In fact, and this was only happening in several places because of the sheer madness of it, there were even a few soldiers roaming about in No Man's Land. Both sides had decided on some temporary mutual agreement to allow each other's soldiers to walk about in No Man's Land. However, not many soldiers from both sides were willing to go out into No Man's Land. Not because they were scared of the thought that the other side would suddenly turn on them and kill them, but because over the past year word of fighting from up and down the front had spread everywhere, which had only resulted in hatred for both sides from the other. The past friendships and get together from the previous Christmas would not be repeated this year. This year it would be like what the two sides had been doing for the past year; watching each other from across No Man's Land, waiting for Christmas day to be over.

In the British trench west of Thiepval, a Christmas, but uneasy mood hung in the air. Most of the soldiers were leaning against the trench walls or sitting in the machine gun nests or dugouts, talking and smoking cigarettes. It was a good feeling, but nevertheless the men had their weapons nearby just in case something happened. Out in No Man's Land, there were a few soldiers about, but they were mostly sitting in shell holes in groups, talking and smoking. The Germans were doing the same, again with not many men out in No Man's Land as they too were suspicious of the British.

"Can ya think of what ya family are doing?"

In the machine gun nest were Hans, Moe and two other soldiers, one of them a medium height black haired soldier with green eyes and was from Manchester called Darwin, and the other a tall brown haired soldier with blue eyes and was from Nottingham called Tom. They were each enjoying a cigarette and talking about home.

"Probably up at me' nan's'," Hans said, replying to Tom who had asked him of what his family were doing back at home. He took another puff from his cigarette and blew into the air, the smoke being taken by the cold wind. "What about you?" he asked Tom.

Tom shrugged. "Differen' things every year," he replied. "Last year, we went north to my grandfathers and the year before tha', we went to my older sister's in Bristol. Who knows where they've gone this year,"

The others chuckled slightly and some took another puff from their cigarettes.

Then, a voice from further up the trench drew their gazes and they looked up the trench to see Adam walking up towards them. They raised their hands to greet him and he smiled and came over and sat next down on the end next to Moe.

"Alright, guys," he said.

They nodded. "Havin' a swell Christmas morning," Moe replied.

Adam chuckled slightly and looked among the group. "Where's Wally?" he asked.

"Um…" Hans piped up, unease in his voice. "He's out in No Man's Land,"

Adam's face fell a little. "Oh," he said in an uneasy voice. If Wally was out in No Man's Land, then he was a target for the Germans, but there was a temporary truce holding out so he was safe. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, in a shell hole about half-way across No Man's Land, Wally sat against the side of the crater, resting on his backpack. In his hand was a black and white photograph of him and his family taken by Franz about two years ago, which he was looking at. A younger Wally and Hal were leaning the outside wall of the stable outside their farmhouse and John was standing next to Wally and Mary was standing next to Hal. The background held a sunny sky, showing that it had been taken in the summer, perfect time for perfect weather.

Wally smiled a little. That was all two years ago. It was when life was so much easier and so much better. Now…now it was just ruled by war and death and destruction. Many men on both sides had been killed and yet the end was nowhere in sight. This war would drag on for much longer than expected. When the war had gone on longer than last Christmas, he believed it would be over by Christmas this year, but with the amount of hatred and determination shown by both sides over the last year, that was no longer going to happen.

Wally sighed and lowered his hand with the photograph to his stomach and looked up at the sky. He could not believe that this war had gone on for this long. Even though longer wars had continued on for many years longer in the past many times before, this type of warfare was completely new. Nothing like it had been seen in history. This was, without a doubt, the first time there had been a war where thousands were being killed and injured each day and the first time such a large scale of fighting had been carried out and the first time that gas had been used.

This war was not like he had thought it would be. It was not fun and it was not an adventure. It was a death sentence for both sides and how long it would go on for he did not know. Another year, or maybe two, or maybe even three! Those thoughts made him shudder and haunted his mind. He could not bear to believe, let alone hold, those kind of thoughts.

_Hopefully It'll be over soon _he mentally said to himself.

After looking up at the sky for a moment, Wally felt his stomach growl and he placed his other hand on it as if to try and tame it. He had not had breakfast yet and had come out here to get out of the trench to just be alone to think about the truce last year when the British and German soldiers here had thrown down their weapons and ignored the orders of their officers and come together as friends and had even played a game of rounder's. He smiled at the thought as he sat up and opened up his backpack to get out a piece of a baguette and cheese he had received from rations, which was a lot better than the bully beef tins that were usually given out.

"Vally!"

Wally jumped and shot round, his hand grabbing tightly to his backpack in case he needed to defend himself, to see a German soldier standing on the edge of the shell hole. However, he did not panic as any other soldier would do. In fact, he smiled and stood up, his face beaming.

It was Franz, his old friend.

_Wow! Talk about a coincidence! _He mentally exclaimed to himself.

Franz laughed and slid down the side of the crater and embraced Wally tightly, who returned the compliment.

"Oh!" Franz said. "Oh, it is so good to see you again, Vally!" he said.

"You to, Franz," Wally replied, releasing his friend. "I never thought I would see you again,"

"Neither did I," Franz replied. "After when you had saved that horse with that friend of yours, I thought you would have been punished or sent somewhere else. Thank Gott you weren't,"

Wally nodded in agreement and silence fell between them for a moment. "I was really hoping for the war to end this year," Wally said and a sad look etched on his face. "But…" he sighed. "That's not going to happen,"

Franz nodded in agreement. It was bad that the war did not end this year, but the two could at least be glad that they were still alive. They were not one of the many thousands of dead soldiers that had been killed so far in the fighting. For today, the fighting was, at least here, ceasing, but not forgotten as it had been the year before.

"Anyvay," Franz said after a few seconds and Wally looked at him to see him reach into his pocket and take out a small tin. He handed it to Wally, who lifted up the almost completely broken off lid to reveal a maroon/red coloured substance in the bottom. He smiled.

"Jam," he said, laughing a little as he looked back up at Franz, who nodded.

"I received some from home yesterday and I did not use all of it," he explained. "So, with Christmas day and a possible ceasefire like last year coming, I decided to keep it and give it to you. I vas vorried that I vould not be able to give it to you,"

Wally smiled and closed the lid to the tin. "Well…you have," he said and he embraced Franz, who also embraced him, once again. "Thank you, and Merry Christmas,"

Franz nodded and let go of Wally. "Merry Christmas to you too, my friend,"

He stepped back a few paces and looked around. "I better go now, Vally," he said. "Goodbye and look after yourself,"

Wally nodded. "You too," he replied, waving to Franz who climbed up the side of the crater and, with a final wave, ran back towards the German lines

Wally smiled and sat back down next to his backpack, looking at the tin in his hand. It was a strange Christmas present, or gift, but it was good enough. He was glad he had seen Franz again, and that was, no doubt, the best gift of all. It was like last year. If only it could have been repeated this year.

"Well," he muttered under his breath as he opened the tin and placed it between his knees. "Better not let this go to waste," and he began searching through his bag for his baguette.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to Dick Trafford (1898-1999), who recalled an experience on Christmas Day 1915. What had happened was he had been called over by a friend and they had seen an unarmed German soldier trying to crawl under their barbed wire out in No Man's Land. Dick had gone out to meet the German, who shook his hand and said Merry Christmas (or words to that effect as Dick recalled) and, later on, even recalled he and his friend had seen a hand come up from the German line and wave at their trench, which Dick assumed it was the German he had met earlier on that day. **


	72. A troubling Boxing Day

**The next day**

**December 26****th**

For the soldiers on both sides of the Western Front, the joy and happiness of the previous day still lingered the air, though just not as much now. After all, they were in a war and after everything that's happened over the past year, there was little chance of the events of last Christmas being repeated. Now, both sides seemed to be watching each other precariously, most not really firing or hoping to kill but just keeping an eye on each other in case one side was to suddenly attack. It seemed unlikely, but now there was no chance to take risks. Any decision to let down the entire guard of the line of one of the two sides could result in death.

In the trench, Wally emerged from the dugout and shivered a little as the cold air of winter cut into him like a knife through warm butter. At least there was one thing both sides could disagree on and that was the weather. It was cold, very cold, but still that was not going to deter one side from leaving their frontline trench unguarded.

"'ey, move over, Wally," Moe said from the dugout behind him.

"Oh, sorry, Moe," Wally apologized and moved out of the way for his friend, who stood out of the dugout into the trench and walked down it; Wally followed.

Several other soldiers were standing in the trench or sitting in the machine gun nest or the square shaped hole in the side of the trench, smoking and/or talking. Their rifles were near them. They were not expecting an attack, but still kept their weapons near in case the Germans decided to attack them.

The two stopped near the square shaped hole where Hans and another soldier were sitting in, smoking and talking.

"Alrigh', guys?" Hans asked.

"Yeah, we're goo'," Moe replied, kneeling down next to the right end of the hole. Wally moved over to the left end of the hole and knelt down there.

"So, anythin' 'appened?" Moe asked.

Hans shook his head. "Nah, not really," he replied. "Everyone's jus' been mindin' their own business. Even the 'uns are doin' the same,"

"Too bad we're not out there again like last year," Wally piped up. He looked over at the wall as if looking out at No Man's Land.

"Yeah, well, I don't think that's a good idea, mate," the other soldier sitting in the square shaped hole said. "Think about what's happened over the last year, I don't think anyone wants to be out in No Man's Land with the Germans again playing rounders or whatever,"

The others nodded or hmmed in agreement, but Wally was not so convinced. Well, to be fair, the soldier did have a point. With the events of the last year still in the minds of the soldiers here, there was little chance they wanted to reconcile with the Germans and come together with them like they had done the year before. Then again, the Germans were probably thinking the same thing. It was unlikely they were willing to forgive and forget the past year with the British and come together with them for another Christmas.

Wally, however, just felt that they could still come together with the Germans this Christmas. There was a chance that there were soldiers on the other side of No Man's Land who were probably talking with their friends and looking over at the British trench and thinking the same thing as Wally. Maybe if they could throw down their weapons and come together again. If only-

"Oi, eyes up!" Moe warned, snapping Wally out of his trance. "'Ere comes Gofer,"

"Oh no!" Hans and Wally groaned in unison.

No sooner than when they had finished groaning when Gomer walked/marched into the trench and turned and walked into the dugout.

"Well, it was a good morning whilst it lasted," Wally said.

"Jus' 'ope he leaves," Moe replied.

_"Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,"_

At once, everyone in the trench and the machine gun nest looked over towards the German trenches. Wally got to his feet, as did the others behind him.

"What the Hell is that?" the soldier that had been sitting in the square shaped hole with Hans asked.

"It's the Germans singing," Wally replied, a small smile creeping upon his face as he rested his arms on the edge of the frozen mud of No Man's Land. "I've heard it before,"

"Yeah," Hans and Moe said, a feeling of joy overcoming them as well.

Their minds were instantly forced back onto the night of Christmas Eve, just over a year ago now. They had been in the trenches, and it was back then Adam had despised Wally, and the Germans had started singing and began emerging from their trenches and holding candles that lit up the night air around their trench. If only that could have been repeated here and now, obviously without the candles, but coming together would have been perfect.

"What the bloody Hell is that noise?" a familiar voice barked and everyone in the trench looked over towards the dugout to see Gomer run out of the dugout into the trench, a mixed look of anger and confusion on his face.

When he reached the side of the trench facing No Man's Land, he grabbed the side of the wood that made up the trench wall and lifted himself up to look out over No Man's Land. A look of anger shot onto his face.

"Oh, they're singing now, are they?" he growled. "Well, we'll see about that!" and he dropped back down to the ground, turned and ran down the long section of trench towards the rear trenches. The others watched him go, uncertainty taking over them. The other soldiers up and down the trench were also uncertain of what Gomer had planned but went back to what they were doing before.

"I don't the sound of what he has planned?" the soldier, who was standing between Wally and Moe, said.

"Neither do I," Moe replied. "Wha' ever I' is, it don' sound goo',"

"Maybe we shoul' warn 'em," Hans suggested. "Any of ya guys speak any Germa'?"

"I can speak a little," Wally piped up and he stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out several words in German. When he was done, he and the others looked hopefully across No Man's Land, expecting a response, but nothing came back, apart from the singing.

"Damnit!" Wally hissed. "They're singing too loud,"

"Try again," Moe replied. Wally nodded and cupped his hands around his mouth and went to shout out to them again.

Suddenly…

WHOOSH BOOM! WHOOSH BOOM!

Wally lowered his hands and looked with wide-eyes over at the German trenches as two pillars of smoke rose up from them. After the explosions filled the air, silence followed. The Germans had stopped singing. Unease began to fill the men in the trench.

"Ah! There we go!" a voice said and the group, glaring, looked over at Gomer, who had a proud look on his face as if he was someone who had won an award in a competition. "That'll shut up 'em up,"

"And piss 'em off as well, you berk!" Hans growled at him. "They'll probably star' firin' back at us now!"

"No they won't," Gomer reassured him. "Besides, this is war! What d'you expect us to do: go over there and start singing hymns with 'em?"

Hans went to reply when…

WHOOSH! BOOM!

An explosion in the long section of trench threw everyone to the trench floor. Another shell landed nearby in the rear trenches. A scream followed, indicating someone had been hit. Another shell followed, and then another, and another, and another.

"The Germans won' fire back a' us! Smooth move, you berk!" Hans shouted to Gomer over the noise of the barrage.

"Oh, they'll stop soon," he shouted back. "Don't worry, this'll pass,"

Wally, from his laying down position, just sighed and shook his head. Another shell flew overhead and crashed into the trench a few metres behind him.

**Later that day**

In fact, even by the time that the evening had come over the front, the barrage was still going on. Wally, Moe, Hans and Gomer had managed to make it back into the dugout during a quick ease in the barrage, but this just seemed to be worse. Even though no shells had landed on the ground above the dugout, bits of dirt and dust were falling from the ceiling of the dugout onto them or onto the floor. At one point, the ceiling actually shook slightly, but, thankfully, it did not collapse.

"Well, this has really passed, hasn't it?" Moe, who was sitting on the end of his bed, said sarcastically, looking down at Gomer, who was sitting at the table, and adding a stressed tone as he did so.

"Oh shut up, will yer!" he barked back.

"Oi, I wasn't the one who fired a few mor'ars at the Germans and made 'em fire back a' us!"

"He's right, Gomer," Wally said, who was laying down on his bed, piped up. Gomer glared at him. "There really wasn't any need to do that,"

"Just stay out of this, Wallace!" he hissed.

"Argh! Blimey!" a voice from the dugout entrance rasped and everyone looked over at it to see Adam walk into the dugout. "Who the Hell kicked them off?" he asked, to which everyone answered by pointing at Gomer. He rolled his eyes. "No surprise there," he muttered and walked back over to his bed and sat down.

Wally shifted over onto his side so he was facing the wall, the noise of the barrage outside filling his ears. It was hard to imagine that anyone could live through this, but he could. After all, after being here over a year, he was used to it.

_Talk about peace on Earth, though _he thought.

At last, his eyelids began to grow heavy and he let his body be drawn into a deep sleep.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this story to Clarrie Jarman (1896-1996) who said in an interview that on Christmas morning, a soldier in his trenches had fired on the German trenches and the Germans had responded by firing a barrage at them for the whole day and for the whole of Boxing Day as well. He also said in the interview "Talk about peace on Earth,"**


	73. Happy New Year

**Seven days later**

**January 2****nd****, 1916**

The joy and the happiness of the Christmas days now seemed to have ebbed away from the minds of the soldiers on both sides of the Western Front. Now, they were back to the usual day-to-day survival that had been happening for much of the year before them. Although there was still the New Year celebrations going on in Britain, Germany, France and other countries, the men could really care less if this was the start of the year. They just wanted to go home and get away from this fighting. They had been here over a year and still neither side was winning this enormous stalemate. It was hopeless though. The only way you would leave the front was either through death or if you were wounded and lucky enough to be sent home.

At least there were good times of rest and putting your mind on other things when your group came off the line. That was what the squad were doing today. They had come off the front earlier yesterday evening and were hoping every moment of their time out of the frontline. They were resting in the small village, or what was left of it after the recent barrage on Boxing Day, behind the frontline.

Moe, Wally and Hans were sitting behind the remains of a cottage, playing cards. Their 'table' was a large piece of wood they had found among the pile of rubble. It had been part of the wall of a room within the cottage but obviously it no longer was. At the moment, Moe was winning.

"Oh no!" Moe groaned, slamming the table with his hands as he set his cards down. It was not a good result. Just three tens, easily beaten by Hans' four kings and Wally's running flash, four, five, six, seven and eight of hearts. Well, Moe _had _been winning but now his two friends had beaten him.

"Well, that was a quick end to your winning streak, Moe," Wally said.

"Jus' you wai', Wally," Moe replied. "I'll ge' back in me winnin' streak,"

"After about a hundred more failed attempts," Hans added, making Wally smirk.

"Hey, lads," a voice called from within the ruins of the cottage.

The three looked over at the ruins of the cottage to see Adam walk toward them, his backpack on and his rifle in his hand. He had just come back from the hospital after going there to check and see if he had received anything from Wendy back home in Britain.

"Heya, Adam," Moe greeted.

Adam nodded in reply and sat down next to them. "Who's winning?" he asked.

"Well, Moe was," Wally replied. "But me and Hans juts beat him,"

"For now," Moe told him. "For now, ya 'ave, but I'll get ya back,"

Adam just rolled his eyes and took off his backpack. His eyes searched the surroundings and saw someone they all knew was absent.

"Where's Gofer?" he asked.

"Buggered off somewhere," Hans replied. "Don'' really know, and to be honest, don'' care. Just as long as he stays there, It's good with us,"

Wally and Moe nodded in agreement. Gomer had gone off somewhere in another part of the area behind the frontline, though not exactly in the village, to take new arrivals to the front.

_God help them _Wally had thought when they learned what Gomer had left to do.

"Watch it, Wally," Adam said and Wally moved his cards over a little as Adam placed his backpack on the table.

He opened it and took out a bottle of wine. The word _Champagne _was written across it.

"Met a Frenchy on the way back from the hospital," he explained as he sat his back pack on the ground next to him and began searching through it again. "Traded him a tin of bully beef I had for his wine,"

"And you made a good choice," Hans commented as he examined the bottle. "Four years. No' bad,"

"Yeah, French wine is good," Adam replied. "Right, where are they? Ah, here we are!"

He took out several small caps that looked like they had been for other wine bottles, but Adam had taken them. He passed one to each of the men around the table and opened the bottle of wine and poured a little into each of them. Then he poured himself one before doing up the cap on the bottle and placing it on the ground next to him.

"Well, even though It's a day late, I still think it's a good thing," he said. He picked up his cap of wine and held it up above the middle of the table. "Happy New Year," he said.

The others raised their bottle caps as well and tapped them together. "Happy New Year," they all repeated in unison and drank.

"Oh!" Moe rasped as he wiped his eye with the back of his other hand as a few tears appeared. "Bloody 'ell, that is strong,"

"Y-yeah!" Hans rasped, nodding.

Wally coughed a little and set his bottle cap down on the table. Adam chuckled.

"You'll all get used to it," he told them. "When you get to my age, you'll be able to handle it,"

"I 'ope so," Moe replied, setting his bottle cap down on the table. "Righ' who's up for another game?" he inquired.

They all nodded and Moe picked up all the cards and began laying them out for their next game.


	74. The end of Gallipoli

**January 9th, 1916**

**Location: Gallipoli peninsula, Ottoman Empire**

Although it was mostly a sunny day over the Gallipoli peninsula, it was freezing cold. The sea was only just above freezing temperature, but anyone who entered it would come out shivering. A winter breeze that blew through the air seemed to cut right through everyone in It's path. Even on the rocks and partial shrub and bushes there was some frost. It was amazing to see how even here in this country was used to having milder weather and boiling hot sun shines that it was cold.

That was something that the men who had been fighting here had experienced very well.

Scattered along the beaches at the tip of the peninsula were the remains of parts of landing ships and guns that had been destroyed over the course of the last nine months. There was the odd occasional body of a fallen soldier among them. Up on the hills, the remains of the trenches that had been dug in an almost equal stalemate as that on the Western Front by the French and British and their Commonwealth allies, remained silent and empty of any living soul. A few hundred yards away from them were the Turkish trenches, which were also silent but not empty. Several soldiers were walking about in them, but most were asleep. It was still quite early in the morning, but even if it was midday, there was no rush for the soldiers to get up and prepare for battle.

The reason why; their enemies were withdrawing from the peninsula.

A few hundred metres off shore, a small rowing boat filled with a mixture of British and Commonwealth soldiers sailed towards a nearby destroyer that was waiting to take the last of the men from this area of the peninsula out of here. Not far ahead of the rowing boat were several other rowing boats, all of them filled with troops, as they made their way towards the large warship that was patiently waiting for them all to board so it could leave the area.

On board the last of the rowing boats, one of the soldiers, a tall and thin soldier with blonde hair, blue eyes and a small scar over his lip near, only just recognizable through his tiny moustache that was covering it, and was sitting in the back of the boat, sighed and looked over his shoulder at the coastline as they slowly drifted further away from it. For the past five months, that peninsula, as much of a death trap as it was, had been his home. He had gone there with many of his friends, filled by dreams of a quick victory in knocking the Turks out of the war and denying the Germans and their allies another country and their side. In the end, however, like it had been when the British and French soldiers had attacked towards the German Army in 1914, also fuelled by the belief that the war would be over by Christmas that year, it was in fact a failure. Rather than be a quick and knockout blow against the Turks, it was a massacre for the British and their Commonwealth forces and the armies of the French. Even though the Turks had lost many men as well, probably around about as much as the Allies, they had managed to hold the invading armies from their capital, Constantinople and, thereby, kept their country in the war.

"'Ey, Aston," one of the soldiers, who was short and red haired with green eyes and a bandage around his arm and was named Barry, said to the soldier looking back out at the Gallipoli coastline, snapping him out of his trance. "You alrigh'?" he asked.

Aston nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "I'm alright,"

"Ya sure?" another soldier, who was black haired with green eyes and was sitting in the middle of the boat and called Samuel, inquired. "Ya've been awfull' quie' since we lef',"

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Aston insisted.

Silence fell over the men in the boast again, pierced only by the creaking of the two men pushing the oars against the water and their grunts as they did so.

"Can't believe we lost," Samuel said, looking back at the coastline.

"Neither can I," Aston replied, looking back at the coastline as well.

None of them could believe it. They had been filled with hopes and dreams of defeating the Turks and knocking them out of the war, but instead it had fallen onto a land of death and destruction almost as bad, no it _was_ as bad, as that in No Man's Land on the Western Front. Thousands on both sides had died and now the commanders of the Allied armies, battered, bruised and tired, had decided to evacuate the Gallipoli peninsula. So many of their friends had died in the fighting, and hundreds more were suffering from serious wounds and disease. The Turks were probably suffering just as bad, but they had achieved one thing the Allies had not out of this battle. Victory.

"Righ', 'ere we are," one of the men rowing the boast towards the destroyer said.

The boat thudded lightly as it hit the side of the destroyer. A rope ladder was tossed down to them and one-by-one; the men began to climb out of the boat. When they were all on board, an officer began heading up to the bridge to tell the captain everyone was on board the ship. Aston looked back out over towards the Gallipoli coastline as if he was replaying everything he had seen over the last five months in his mind again. All of the trench attacks and failed landings and such, all of it had been for absolutely nothing, and now thousands more Allied and Turkish troops were lying dead around the peninsula. At least had gained something out of this battle, but this victory had been costly for them as well as this defeat for the Allies.

The destroyer jolted slightly as it began to turn starboard and move away from the peninsula coastline. Aston took one more look at the peninsula and sighed and walked away down the side of the ship after the others.

**(Note: After nine long months of continuous fighting that had resulted in little territory being gained for the Allies, the decision had been made to start the evacuation of the Allied forces in December 1915. By January 9****th****, the last of the Allied forces had been evacuated from Helles point. The total casualty rate for both sides was staggering. Although the exact death toll may never be known, it is estimated that for the Allies, 205,000 British and Commonwealth and around 47,000 French had died fighting on the Gallipoli peninsula. For the Turks, it is estimated that around 250,000 had died.) **


	75. A lucky shot

**Fifteen days later**

**January 24****th**

Overnight on the Western Front, a layer of frost had fallen onto the frontlines and the soldiers on both sides awoke to see much of the ground in No Man's Land looking as if it was rock hard and covered with a thin layer of ice that seemed to crackle and crunch much like when you step on fallen leaves in the autumn. Even the water that had fallen into some of the shell holes around No Man's Land in past rain storms had frozen solid. No Man's Land was a frozen wasteland now and it would be a while before it became just a wasteland again.

However, there was one thing about it that did not change no matter what time of year it was, and that was the fact that it was a wasteland of death and destruction. Already, there were several bodies out in No Man's Land that were partly frozen, having been left after a recent trench attack by both sides. It seemed mad that anyone would attack in these winter conditions, but it was pretty much a repeat of the previous winter. Both sides had attacked each other back then in the freezing cold, so why should they not attack each other now?

In the British trench, Wally, Moe and Hans were lined up along the side facing No Man's Land. There were about five others soldiers with them and they were all either step siding or rubbing their hands together as hard as they could to try and warm themselves even though they had their coats on, but they seemed to be little defence against the bitter cold wind that seemed to cut right through everyone.

"Jesus Christ!" one of the soldiers, a short blonde haired man of about nineteen with brown eyes and freckles and was standing at the end of the line furthest from the dugout, said, rubbing his hands together as hard as he could to try and create a bit of warmth. "It's almost colder than last year!"

"I feel ya!" Moe replied, nodding agreement as he tried step siding to warm himself up.

Wally breathed deeply into his hands. The heat from his breath momentarily warmed them before fading away into the air and he rubbed them together and breathed into them again. Further up the trench to his right, two more soldiers sitting in the machine gun nest looked out over No Man's Land. There was little they could see going on at the German lines, but then again there would not be as it was too cold and there was little reason for the Germans to attack them now.

"Everything alright lads?" a voice asked from behind.

The two men in the machine gun nest turned to see a middle aged officer, with black hair and a small beard growing around his chin, walk up the long section trench towards them.

"Yes, sir," one if the men said. "Not much is goin' on at the Huns' lines, but we ain't keepin' our guard down,"

"Good," the officer replied. "Well, you two go off now," he said to them. He turned his head to look down the long section of trench towards the rear trenches where several other officers and men were moving about. "Roberts!" he called.

"Sir?" a young soldier from the entrance to the rear trenches called back.

"Get Ben and come up here into the machine gun nest,"

"Sir," but just as the officer went to walk away…

WHOOSH! BOOM! WHOOSH! BOOM!

The officer was thrown to the trench floor as two explosions landed nearby, breaking apart wood and throwing splinters in all directions. He did not move again afterwards.

"Everyone down!" one of the soldiers in the machine gun nest shouted as he and his comrade dived to the trench floor and covered their heads with their hands, The line of soldiers near them did the same. A soldier sitting in one of the square shaped holes in the side of the long section of trench dived pushed himself as far as he could against the wooden wall at the back of the hole in an effort to protect himself from any shells or shrapnel that might be launched from the shells that crashed nearby.

As Wally looked up from his position on the ground, he saw another shell crash about five metres ahead of him. A soldier screamed and fell backwards to the trench floor, dead. Someone shouted stretcher bearers but this barrage would stop them from getting to him.

"I hope I'll be alright at the end of this," Wally muttered to himself as he put his head down again.

For about ten minutes, the barrage battered the trenches. Finally, when the last shell crashed in No Man's Land a few feet from the trench, the soldiers, cautiously, stood up, ready to dive for cover in case the Germans decided to fire another barrage at the British trenches again.

"Everyone alright?" one of the men in the machine gun nest asked as he and his comrade sat up from the floor.

A mixture of replies came back, but there were a few soldiers, that had been part of the line of soldiers the squad was part of, lying dead on the trench floor, having been killed by the barrage.

"Blimey!" Hans said, shaking a bit of dirt out of his head. "That was a surprising one,"

Wally and the others nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a chorus of shouting from No Man's Land filled the air and the men in the trench looked to see a wave of about a hundred German soldiers charging towards them. Even though they were all dressed in large grey coats, but if was not them that were keeping the Germans warm it was probably the adrenaline that was now pumping through their veins as they were charging towards the British lines.

"Alright, everyone to the forward trench!" another officer in the long section of trench ordered.

Wally, Moe, Hans and the other soldiers aimed their weapons out across No Man's Land as the tide of Germans came closer. A few tens of more British soldiers ran out from the long sections of trenches and joined them. The two soldiers on the machine gun turret loaded the weapon and began firing at the Germans. The soldiers lined out along the side of the trench either side of them followed on firing at the Germans.

Wally watched as one-by-one the tide of Germans began to thin. He aimed his rifle at the ground near them and fired. He could still not find it within him to harm them, let alone kill them so he tried desperately to fire near them but too close enough in case he did hit them.

Next to him, Moe fired a shot at a tall German who had been running to and from the shell holes. The German screamed as he was struck in the chest and fell backwards into the shell hole. Moe reloaded his weapon as Hans and another soldier next to him fired away at the Germans, both hitting and killing two more.

Closer and closer the Germans came, some returning fire on the British trenches. A few British soldiers fell to the trench floor as they were hit but they were protected by the trench wall and the fact that they were lower down than the Germans, making them far less vulnerable to their bullets.

Finally, when the Germans, who were now numbering about forty, were about fifty feet from the trench, one of them blew a whistle, shouted something in German and they turned and ran back towards their trench.

"Right, c'mon, lads!" an officer shouted as the machine gun fired away at the retreating Germans, hitting and killing some of them.

The officer pulled himself out of the trench and ran towards the German lines, which were just starting to be filled back up with the survivors of the attack. A weave of British troops followed close behind. Wally, Moe and Hans went to climb back out after them when, suddenly, a soldier, that had been next to Wally and had climbed out of the trench almost right after the officer, screamed and fell back towards the trench.

"Catch him!" Wally exclaimed.

He, Moe and Hans held out their hands and grabbed the soldier as he fell into the trench. They almost fell over themselves but were able to stop themselves from doing so.

"You alrigh', mate?" Hans asked the soldier.

The solder, who was medium height, around about the same height as Wally, with brown hair, green eyes and looked to be about eighteen, nodded a little in reply.

"Go' sho' in the mouwth," he said, though his cheek had swollen a little.

Wally looked at the left side of his face and saw a tiny little hole in the side of his cheek. Wow! That was where the bullet had gone and come out.

"Are all my teeth in?" the soldier asked.

Wally opened his mouth and looked inside. A tiny ray of light was now coming in through the little hole in his cheek. Amazingly, though, all of his teeth were there. Wow! Even though he had been injured, that was a stroke of luck he had not lost any of his teeth.

Wally smiled and nodded at him. "Yep. They're all there,"

"Oh, thank God," the soldier replied.

"Right, we got 'im," a voice said and the four looked down the trench to see two stretcher bearers run up to them, carrying a stretcher between them. They took the soldier from Wally, Moe and Hans and set him down on the stretcher.

"Wait," the soldier said just as the stretcher bearers were about to pick him up and take him away behind the line. The soldier reached into his uniform's chest pocket and took out a cigarette. "One of ya ligh' this?" he asked.

Hans nodded and took out a small box of matches and lit one of them, the flame roaring to life on the end of the stick. He held it towards the end of the cigarette and it lit it. The soldier took a puff and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"Cheers," he said, and with that, the stretcher bearers picked him up and carried him off into the long section of trench towards the rear trenches.

"Wow, tha' was lucky he didn'' get killed," Hans said.

Wally and Moe nodded in agreement. "Yes, it was," Wally replied.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to a soldier who, in an interview, told of when he witnessed one of the soldiers in his trench be shot in the mouth, but did not lose any of his teeth and was sent down the line smoking a cigarette. Unfortunately, I cannot find the name of the soldier but I will eventually so the chapter may be re-uploaded again soon. **


	76. A letter from her father

**Fourteen days later**

**Date: February 7****th**

The winter night sky was dominated by the clouds which were visible to all on the ground below as if there was a sea of mud hovering high above them. It had been cloudy for most of the day and it looked like the overcast would not pass tonight, probably lasting for the whole of the next day and maybe even the night after that. Hopefully, there would be no rain to add to this. At least there was one thing that was not around for the moment, which was the bitter cold winter wind. It had been blowing earlier on in the day but had faded as the evening drew in. At least the soldiers on the front could be spared another cold night.

Near the cobbled path that ran past the hospital, Wally walked across It's hard surface towards the large mansion-like building. Several more large tents had been added to those that were outside the building. A few trucks were parked around the field outside the hospital. One started and drove away from the hospital and onto the cobbled path and left away from the hospital, It's headlights cutting away at the darkness as if it were good itself driving away evil, but only just as the trucks' headlights were dimmed so as not to attract any attention from any German spotters that might be spying on the British lines in hopes for finding a target for their guns to fire on.

As Wally approached the hospital, he saw a familiar friend sitting on the bench outside the hospital. It was Eve. She was wearing her small white coast again. She turned her head towards him and waved. Wally waved back but as he lowered his hand, he noticed she was holding a piece of paper in her hand and as soon as she stopped waving at him, she found herself buried back into it.

_Wonder what it is? _Wally thought.

Eve smiled up at him when he reached her. "Hi, Wally," she said.

"Hello," he replied. As he sat down, he could not help but not take his eyes off the paper in her hands. It had writing over the front of it.

Eve noticed that he was looking at the paper as well. "It's a letter," she said.

"Oh," Wally replied, blushing a little when she realised that he had been wondering what it was. "Who's it from?" he asked.

"My father," she replied. She gazed up at the cloud covered sky, a smile on her lips and sighed almost lovingly. "He's coming home," she said. "I can't believe it,"

Wally smiled. It really warmed his heart to see Eve happy, and she deserved it. She must have been absolutely overjoyed when she received the letter from her father telling her when he would be coming home.

"Here," she said, moving close to him and showing him the letter. Wally looked down at the letter, but saw it was all in French.

"Oh no," he said, a little embarrassed. He laughed a little. "I don't think I'll be able to read and understand it all right now," he added.

"Oh, sorry," Eve replied, laughing a little as well. "I'll read it to you," she cleared her throat and began to read the letter.

"Dear my daughter Evelyn, I am sending you this letter to let you know that I'm coming home soon, in a few days. I have been waiting for convalescent leave for some time now. At Christmas, I thought I would be offered it but it was not to be. Now, however, I was offered it and I took it gladly," Eve's smile widened when reading this part of the letter. "I'll be home with your mother and grandmother soon. I hear that you will be returning home soon as well. My heart will be overjoyed to see you again. Take care my daughter and I shall see you soon. Love, your father,"

Eve smiled and folded up the letter in her hand. "Oh, this is great," she said eagerly. She placed the letter against her and smiled even more. "I can't wait to see him again!"

Wally smiled. "I'm really happy for you, Eve," he said. "You deserve it,"

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Wally," and hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. He embraced her back.

The two gazed up at the sky, a relaxing feeling sweeping over them. He was happy for Eve. She had deserved this. Her father was still alive and he was coming home. She was going to see him again.

_If only… _Wally thought, but shook it out of his mind. No, he would not let that bother him.

Right now, this moment belonged to them and they enjoyed the company of each other. They would enjoy it whilst they were still together.

"I'll be leaving soon to visit him," Eve said after a few moments' silence.

"Oh," Wally replied in a fake low voice, but Eve could tell by the small smile he had on his face. "I'll be bored without you here,"

"Don't worry," she replied, patting his arm. "I'm sure you'll live,"

"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied, but smiled and she smiled back. She shook her head.

"Oh, Wally," she said. "You never cease to amaze me,"

"Well, that is me," he replied.

She smirked and the two continued to look up at the sky, entranced by the happy thought of Eve's father returning home soon. Finally, something happy for them was coming out of this war.


	77. A friend rejoining

**Twelve days later**

**February 19****th**

The cloudy weather of the winter still hung in the air over the Western Front. A strong cold breeze blew through the air as well, cutting through everyone that was outside the dugouts or square shaped holes in the sides of the trench. A bit of frost was visible across some parts of the trench and along the sides of the mud that bordered the trench from No Man's Land, obviously showing that winter was slowly starting to ebb away from the frontline, but it would be a while before spring took over from winter.

In the trench, however, the men were busy at work against the cold, but they were not step siding or rubbing their hands together to create warmth or trying to scratch off frost from the trench floor or the walls of the trench. Instead, they were clearing away bodies of the dead from the trench. Out in No Man's Land, there were many more dead Germans and British lying about amongst the mud and in the shell holes, some half in and out, other in completely. A recent trench attack just half an hour ago had, as usual with these attacks, resulted in failure for both sides, but then again these attacks were just there to weaken both sides amount of men for future offensives. This tactic, however, was useless as both sides could easily replenish their losses within hours of an attack and it would only lead to more trench attacks that would only result in the deaths of more soldiers for both sides in the war.

In the trench, Wally and a stretcher bearer placed a wounded soldier onto the stretcher that lay on the trench floor. The soldier had a bandage around his chest and several holes were dotted around his uniform. They had been caused by shrapnel from when a mortar shell had burst in the trench during the German attack on the trench. The soldier, though, was lucky to be alive. Two other soldiers, who had been next to him when the mortar shell had landed, had both been killed outright. It was another form of luck for one soldier that he had survived that shell, but two others had not. The soldier, for the moment, was out cold, the sudden shell attack having knocked him out.

"Thanks, mate," the stretcher bearer said to Wally, who nodded and the other stretcher bearer walked up from behind Wally, after having helping another two stretcher bearers put a dead soldier on a stretcher, and picked up the stretcher. Wally watched the two carry the wounded man into the long section of trench.

"See anythin' from the 'uns?" he heard a soldier in the machine gun nest ask and saw one of them rise up from his knees and look through a pair of binoculars at the German lines. He held this position for about two seconds before quickly darting back down as he knew there would be a German over the other side of No Man's Land that would have taken a shot at him.

"Nothin', yet," the soldier with the binoculars said to his comrade.

"But they'll be back,"Wally muttered under his breath as he looked out across No Man's Land towards the German trenches.

He and everyone else knew that the Germans would strike back at the British trenches, who would no doubt strike back at them. As soon as the weather got a little brighter and more suited to mass attacks, there would be many of these every day, and almost all would result in massacres.

"Oh, blimey!" a voice further up the trench gasped and he looked to see Hans and Moe place another wounded soldier, who had been shot in the chest and shoulder during the British attack but had been fortunate enough to have been saved by one of his friends, and carry him off into the long section of trench towards the rear trenches.

As Wally went to help out another soldier place a dead soldier onto a stretcher, Adam came out of the dugout. The skin around his eyes was a little red. He had not gotten a lot of sleep last night and a quick barrage by the Germans, only lasting about ten minutes, had not helped either. That had, in fact, kept him awake for most of the night as he would be annoyed that he would fall asleep only to be woken up by another barrage.

"Alright, Wally?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Wally replied, nodding. "Why don't you go and get some rest, Adam," he said. "You look really tired,"

"Nah, I'm alright," Adam replied. "I can't anyway. I need to get off to the hospital and see if I've got anything from Wendy,"

"Okay. Well, take care won't you,"

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be alright. See ya," and with that, Adam walked off into the long section of trench, having to turn sideways to allow another two stretcher bearers to pass him.

Wally sighed. He felt sorry for Adam. He seemed to have lost his countless bags of energy he used to have. He was now getting tired all of the time, mostly because of the barrages thrown at the trench by the Germans, and yet he always acted like he could go on, ignoring the cries of his body to stop and rest. He had to take a break one day. Hopefully, he might get some convalescent leave again soon. That would be good for him. He could rest and go see Wendy again back in Britain.

"'Scuse, mate," one of the stretcher bearers that had passed Adam said to Wally, snapping him out of his trance.

"Oh, sorry," Wally replied, turning sideways and the stretcher bearers passed him and walked down the trench towards where another dead soldier lay on the trench floor, having been shot through the chest and killed instantly during the German attack.

"'Ey, Wally!" someone shouted from further up the trench.

What the…? For some reason Wally knew that voice. It was had a Scottish accent and he had heard it before, definitely sure of that. He looked up the trench and saw a familiar face walking towards him. Two other soldiers were walking behind him.

Wally smiled in recognition when he saw the soldier. "William!" he exclaimed.

"'Ey, how ya doin, mate?" William greeted cheerfully.

When he reached Wally, he embraced him tightly and patted his back. "It's goo' ta see ya again, Wally," he said.

"You too," Wally replied. "I'm glad you're still alive,"

"Same 'ere," William released Wally and looked around them at the surrounding trenches. "Where's Hans and Moe?"

"Somewhere back there," Wally pointed over to the rear trenches. "We had an attack earlier on,"

"Oh," William replied. Silence fell between them for a moment before he realised he had forgotten something. "Oh, sorry, let me introduce ya," He turned to reveal the two soldiers standing behind him to Wally. One of them was tall and heavily built and looked to be about twenty. He had red hair and blue eyes. There was a small scar down the side of his cheek from where a piece of shrapnel from a shell had struck him. The other soldier was shorter, just slightly shorter than Wally with brown hair and green eyes. He looked to be about nineteen. The skin around his eyes was also a little red. Either he and Adam had something in common with sleeping, or he had been on sentry duty for most of the night. "Wally, this is James," William said, introducing to the tall red haired soldier, who nodded and shook Wally's hand. "And this is Rupert," he said, introducing him to the other soldier, who he also shook hands with.

"Hey guys," Wally said.

"Hello," they replied in unison.

"William!"

"Hey, William!"

The four looked over towards the long section of trench and saw Moe and Hans walking down them towards their trench, both of them smiling and looking towards them.

"'Ey guys!" William replied.

He pulled them both into a friendly embrace for a moment when they reached him before letting go and stepping back a pace.

"It's good to see ya all," he said.

"You too," Moe replied.

"Thanks, and this here's Rupert and James," he said.

"Hey, guys," Hans said to them as he and Moe shook their hands.

"Hey," they replied.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Wally asked. "Why are you up here?"

"Well, we go' moved 'ere," William replied. "After you lo' left, I was worried tha' I would be lef' on me own and I thought you all had died, but earlier on today, me, Ruper' and James 'ere were moved up to 'ere. We're satyin' in a dugout jus' a little bi' down from yours," he said.

"Oh," Wally replied. "Well, we're glad you're here. We're all together again,"

"Yeah. Righ' we best ge' going. See ya guys," William said.

"Bye," Wally, Hans and Moe replied and William, Rupert and James, the other two also saying goodbye, walked past them down the trench.

"Can't believe he's been sen' down here," Hans said.

"Neither can I," Wally replied.

"Well, we ca' be glad tha' we're all 'ere again, jus' like las' time," Moe piped up.

Wally and Hans nodded in agreement. They were all one big group of friends. They had been together before, though they were in different squads last time as well, but in the same area of trench, but now that William was down here with them; their group was reunited once again.

Finally, it looked as though things would look better here now.


	78. The beginning of Verdun

**(Note: the italics are French)**

**Two days later**

**February 21st**

**Near the Douaumont fortress, Verdun sector **

The air today above the French sector of Verdun was tense, so much so that it could be cut with a knife. The winter breeze that had once blown freely through the air around this area suddenly seemed to have fallen silent as if it had fled the area in fear. Everything in the trenches around the Verdun sector and It's forts was quiet.

Something was happening that was making the mood uneasy. Throughout the trench, several French men were looking over the parapet in the direction of the German lines all the way across No Man's Land, which, like all along the front, was nothing but a barren wasteland that was completely deprived of anything that would enable anyone or anything to live or even grow here again. Others were sitting on the trench floor or in the square shaped holes in the sides of the trenches, silent like statues. Few of them were speaking.

One French soldier, a tall man with a large beard, black hair and blue eyes, looked up over the parapet at the German lines.

_"Do you see anything, Pierre?" _one of his comrades standing in the trench asked.

"_No," _the soldier replied. _"Everything is quiet at the enemy lines,"  
_

"_Something must be going on over there," _the soldier in the trench said. _"They must be preparing for an attack," _

"_They most likely are," _another soldier said as he walked around a bend in the trench.

The other two soldiers turned looked at him. He was about 6ft 3 with a small black moustache underneath his nose and a small beard growing around his chin. His light blue uniform, the standard army uniform of the French, was muddied from recent trench attacks and the bad weather that had been hampering the line recently. His short fair coloured hair was messy, though it was barely visible under his helmet, and his blue eyes were red from lack of sleep.

_"Have you seen anything, Louis?" _the soldier standing ahead of him in the trench asked.

_"No, but I just have a feeling they will," _he replied.

_"Having feelings won't get us very far, Louis," _the soldier (Pierre) lying on the parapet replied. _"For all we know, they might not attack,"_

Louis went to reply but paused and said nothing. His friend Pierre could be right in his suggestion. The Germans might not attack, but then again; how did he know that that would happen? How did anyone know what would come in this war? So far, a lot that had seemed impossible to happen _had_ happened and there was a chance more events would follow that path, and if they did, there was always one question attached to it; who would be left when the event had occurred?

Louis sighed and rested his back against the wall of the trench facing No Man's Land and slid down to the floor. Across from him, a few feet further down the trench, he saw another soldier looking at a small photograph. Upon seeing this, he reached into his uniform's chest pocket and took out two small black and white photographs. Both of them had a woman in each. In one was a woman who looked to be in her late thirties wearing a dress, which was a light colour in the photo, which came down to her knees. Her hair was a light colour as well, most likely blonde. She had a pretty face with a small nose, cheeks that looked soft to touch and pretty eyes that looked like they would shine wherever they looked. The background of the photo was the side of a small cottage. In the other photo was a younger woman who looked much like the other woman in the other photograph, only she was much younger, around about sixteen or seventeen and her hair was a much lighter colour in the photograph. She too was wearing a light coloured dress that came down to her knees as she sat on a small stone wall. Behind her were several trees in a field. What was very common about the photographs, however, was that both of the women were smiling at the camera. Louis smiled at the photographs. They had been taken about two years ago at the home of himself, his wife and his daughter at Ruesnes, just several mere months before the war began and drove them from their home.

Louis wiped away a tear in his eye. Somewhere far off in the distance, the distant booms began to draw to an end. He sighed. Those distant booms were, in fact, German shells falling on the city of Verdun, and this was the reason why everyone in the trench was so uneasy. The German had been bombarding the city since earlier on this morning. Everyone was worried that it was the prelude to an offensive here, but then again the Germans had attacked other places this way many times before and yet when the bombardments had ended, no attack had come, but still; could this be the start of an attack?

Louis put the photograph of his wife away in his pocket and looked at the photograph of his daughter.

"My daughter…" he said as he touched the photograph with his finger and ran it down the surface of the photograph. "I will return to you soon,"

After a moment, he sighed again and put the photograph of his daughter back into his chest pocket and placed his head against the wall of the trench behind him. A hint of anger overwhelmed him and his fists clenched tightly and even began to shake. He had been promised time away from the front but this darn bombardment by the Germans had suddenly cancelled it. When he had been told this earlier on, he had not believed it. His leave that he had been waiting for to come for so long was no longer available to him! It was stupid, but there was nothing he could do. He could not just leave and even though he was able to protest about this, there was little chance anything would be done by the command in this area. At the moment, they were more focused on what was happening at Verdun.

Suddenly, all of the other men up and down the trench, even the two that he had been talking to just a few moments earlier, looked up at the sky as if they were searching for something. All talk that he had heard had also ceased as if they had been silenced. Quickly, Louis noticed this but before he could ask he suddenly saw, or heard would be the correct sense, why everyone was looking up at the sky.

The bombardment…it…it had stopped. The distant booms were no longer rolling across the land. What was going on?

_"They've stopped," _one of the soldiers sitting down on the trench floor a few metres down the trench from Louis said, suddenly getting to his feet as uncertainty began to fill him.

"_I don't like the sound of this," _the soldier standing near Louis said.

Louis could not help but agree with him. Something was definitely up. The Germans, as the soldier on the parapet said, were probably preparing for an attack and the bombardment on Verdun had suddenly ceased. Could they be linked, but if so, why were the Germans attacking Verdun without going for the outer defences? They had not bombarded them so if they were going to attack, their infantry would be cut up to pieces. Something was up, but what?

Then…

BOOM! BOOM! Two explosions erupted further down the trench. A few soldiers screamed and fell to the trench floor, dead.

"_GET DOWN!" _someone further up the trench screamed.

WHOOSH! BOOM! WHOOSH! BOOM!

More shells landed up and down and behind the trench, each one taking out a few men wherever it landed in the trench. Louis dived to the floor and covered his head with his hands. A shell burst on the parapet and a body fell down with a crash to the floor on front of him. Looking up, he saw it was the body of the soldier that had been on the parapet looking out over at the German trenches. Grimacing with wide eyes, Louis put his head back down, silently praying that he would not be hit by a shell.

_"Everyone get down!" _an officer shouted from somewhere nearby, but a second later a shell burst in the direction from where the voice had come from and a scream followed, no doubt that was the officer.

**(Note: During the First World War, Verdun was considered an elbow in the German positions along the Western Front, and a very formidable one it was. As it was positioned near the German border, the city was surrounded by strong forts, about twelve large and heavily fortified ones with about forty other smaller forts, the strongest of them all being the fortress Douaumont, which was also considered, at the time, to be the strongest fort in the world. In 1916, the Germans planned an offensive to take the city and on February 21****st****, 1916, the attack came.) **

The bombardment continued on and on for about twenty to thirty minutes, though to Louis and everyone else in the trench it felt like forever. About half-way through the bombardment, one soldier had tried to climb up the side of the trench to flee from the trench but failed as a mortar shell crashed in front of him and peppered him with shrapnel and threw him backwards into the trench.

Finally, the bombardment droned to a halt, the last shell flying overhead and crashing somewhere behind the frontline. After about five seconds, Louis and several other soldiers still alive in the trench got up from the floor.

_"Is everyone okay?" _Louis asked.

_"Yes,"_

"I am okay,"

As those remaining began to recover from the sudden attack, Louis pulled himself up onto the parapet looked over towards the German lines. Somewhere inside him, he got the feeling that this was the prelude to an attack. It looked like he was right after all.

**Meanwhile, behind the German frontline**

Standing on a small hill just about two hundred metres behind the German lines, a group of high ranking German officers and generals stood. Some were talking to each other; others were looking through binoculars at the now battered French lines. Not far in front of them, the Germans soldiers in the trenches waited patiently for the attack to commence. Now they just had to wait for the officers in the trenches to give the word.

Then, a general out of the group on the hill stepped forward and looked through a pair of binoculars at the French lines. He was tall with a large black moustache under his nose. His hair was short and balding at the front and grey in colour. He had several medals pinned to his uniform's chest and just looking at his eyes told you that he was a well-known general. His name was Eric von Falkenhayn. A German general, he was the main leader behind the attack on Verdun. As he lowered the binoculars from his eyes, the months of planning that he and his other generals had spent weeks on for the attack on Verdun played over and over in his mind. With those thoughts came the remembrance of the frustration of having to call off the offensive. What had been happening was that the attack had been planned for earlier on in the month, but bad weather recently had hammered the entire sector, preventing the Germans from advancing and with every day that passed with bad weather, another day passed that Germany could be closer to losing the war. However, the break in the rain today had finally prompted Eric von Falkenhayn to seize the opportunity to attack the Verdun sector before something else stopped him.

His attack, however, would be much different than others before him. Rather than try and break through the French lines and capture as much territory as possible, his plan was to instead 'bleed France white' and to do this, his forces were to attack Verdun and take the city, but to also draw in as many French armies into the battle so they could be destroyed. Eventually, the French army would be destroyed to the point where another German attack could break through the French trenches and then attack the British and their Commonwealth soldiers and defeat them. If this offensive worked, then Germany would have defeated the Allies in the west and could then turn to aid their Austro-Hungarian allies in fighting Russia, who was so far being dealt crippling blows by the Central Powers, but was still not backing down.

"Today begins the end of the war against France," Falkenhayn muttered to himself. "Now is our time to defeat them whilst they are weak,"

Then, as soon as he stopped talking, as if on cue, several faint high pitched noises erupted all along the line. Upon hearing this, the officer and generals behind him stopped talking and looked out at the frontline below them.

Wave after wave of German infantry began climbing out of the trenches and swarming across No Man's Land towards the French line like ants swarming out an anthill to mass attack an enemy. Falkenhayn smiled.

This was it. This was the beginning of the Battle of Verdun.

**In the French frontline trench**

Louis and the remaining soldiers were clearing away the dead and parts of rubble that had been blown apart or away from the wall by the bombardment when one of the soldiers laying on the parapet a few metres down the trench suddenly jumped down and began screaming in panic.

_"The Germans are attacking!" _he screamed. _"They are coming!"_

Louis grabbed the side of the parapet and looked up across No Man's Land. His eyes went wide with shock when he saw the wall of German soldiers charging towards the frontline. All of them were shouting or screaming battle cries that would turn blood to ice.

_"RUN! FALL BACK!" _an officer yelled from nearby.

At once, everyone around Louis turned and ran towards any long sections of trench that led to the rear trenches or even climbed over the parapet of the trench wall behind them to flee from the German onslaught. Louis jumped down from the parapet he was lying on and climbed up the parapet of the trench wall behind him and ran as fast as he could towards the rear trenches, the shouts and roars of the German army behind him filling his ears. The rear trenches came closer. He was almost there…

Then, pain seized him and he fell to the ground. His breath got caught in his throat before he could scream and he coughed out little breaths. He turned over and looked down at his chest and saw a bullet hole in his uniform. That was where the bullet had exited. His breath became weak and with every breath he took, he felt like his very strength was fading from within.

Using what was left of his strength; he reached into his chest pocket and took out the two photographs of his wife and daughter. He looked at them with fading vision and gasping breath, but the pain from within seemed to fade out as if the photographs were healing him from the inside. Weakly, he smiled and kissed the two photographs, giving them both one final goodbye.

Then, with his last breath, his head thudded to the ground and he moved no more. The photographs slipped out of his hand and onto the ground alongside him, forever to be buried by time and the battle that raged around his body.


	79. Comfort

**Four days later**

**February 25****th**

Another winter night had descended over the Western Front. A small patch of frost had formed on the leaves scattered about on the ground. The sky, however, was much different tonight. Instead of being dominated by clouds, it was clear. The stars shined brightly in the ever stretching blackness that seemed to have dominated everything above the world and alongside them was the moon, which shined brighter than ever as if it were trying to prove to the stars that it was the true light that shined down on Earth at night. Truly, this was a beautiful night on Earth. For tonight, it was as if the war had been forgotten. If only that was the real case for everyone involved in it.

Outside the hospital behind the front, Wally was sitting on the bench, but he was on his own. He had promised Eve that he would see her again tonight and he had fulfilled it, but where was she? He had asked himself that when he had arrived about five minutes earlier, but had decided to wait and see if she would come out. Those five minutes had passed quickly and he was shivering slightly from the cold wind that was blowing through the air tonight.

_Where is she? _Wally mentally asked as he looked over at the hospital entrance. There were a few figures moving about to and from the entrance to the tents outside the building.

Finally, he got up. Well, he was going to have to find her. He walked over towards the hospital building and through the large doors into a huge square shaped foyer with cream coloured walls and ceiling, three separate corridors leading left, ahead and right. Several men in army uniforms with Red Cross straps around the upper parts of their arms and nurses walked to and from the corridors. Much of the foyer was bare of anything, save for a few chairs, old stretchers and several boxes of medical equipment. The nurses and the army medics barely noticed Wally as they passed to and from the corridors, some talking, others walking as if they were on a determined task. He wanted to ask one of them, but because they all looked busy he was a little anxious to do so.

Then, a tall army medic man walked out of the left corridor towards the corridor leading ahead. He turned his head towards the door and saw Wally.

"You alrigh', mate?" he asked Wally.

"I'm looking for someone," Wally replied. "It's a nurse. Her name's Evelyn, or Eve for short,"

When he told the medic this, a look of anxiousness came onto his face. "Oh," he said.

Wally quickly noticed the expression on the man's face. "What is it?" he asked, a little concerned.

"Well...uh," the man replied, trying to think of the best way to word what he wanted to say to Wally. "Well…come with me, mate," he said.

He led Wally back into the left corridor, which was about twenty feet long with doors along the right side and about two large windows on the left. A smaller corridor led off right about half-way down the right wall of the corridor. There were many bare spaces along the walls between the doors, making Wally think that there probably had been expensive portraits or ornaments and such there, but either the owners had taken them when the war had reached here or the army had gotten rid of them when this mansion was being converted into a hospital. Several more nurses and army medics and a few wounded, who were able to walk but one had been limping on a leg with a huge white bandage wrapped around the knee, were wondering about in the corridors as well.

The army medic led Wally right into the shorter corridor.

"What's wrong with Eve?" Wally asked the medic.

"Well…" he replied but quickly trailed off. "Well, she's a bit…upset,"

"Upset?" Wally repeated.

The medic nodded. "Yeah," he said.

They came to a halt outside a small bare pale green door. "I'm supposed you've heard about the attack at Verdun?" he asked Wally, who nodded. "Well, she got a letter earlier on today and she broke down when she read it,"

Wally went wide-eyed. She has broken down? That letter she had received earlier today must have been really bad, but what was it that made her so upset?

The medic opened the door slightly. "She might still be a bit upset, so just be careful with her," he warned Wally.

Wally nodded. "Thanks," he said and he walked inside.

The room was a small and square with bare green walls. A small heater was attached to the wall ahead of him. Placed next to the right wall were two thin mattresses placed on top of each other. A pillow was placed on the end of the top mattress facing the back wall of the room. At the end of the mattress placed on the floor was a small pile of books. A single light bulb dangled down from the ceiling.

Sitting on the side of the mattress was Eve. She had her face in her hands and there was a piece of paper lying on the floor in front of her. When Wally closed the door, she looked up at him from her hands, revealing her sad face to him. The skin around her eyes was red, her cheeks were wet with tears, as were her eyes and hands, and she struggled to hold back a gasp.

"Oh, hey Wally," she said.

"Eve," he said worryingly, walking over to her and kneeling down in front of her when he reached her.

"I'm okay," she replied in a weak voice, sniffing. "I'm just a bit upset,"

"I know," he replied. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She sniffed and took a deep breath, wiping away a set of tears from her eyes. "It's my dad," she said after a moment.

"Your father?" he repeated and she nodded. "What happ-" he trailed off

Wally looked at her for a moment and sighed. He knew now what had happened to her father. The medic outside had told him of the attack at Verdun and Eve is upset about her father who was serving in the French Army. He embraced her tightly and she embraced him, burying her face into his neck.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he whispered to her.

"I was looking…forward to…him…coming…home," she sobbed. "I never expected this,"

"Sssssh!" Wally whispered to her as he gently rubbed her back. "It's okay," he said gently. "It's okay, Eve,"

He felt comforting on the outside, but on the inside it was heart-breaking to see her suffer like this. It was horrible for someone to lose a member of their family, but he was lucky he had not had the experience of something as horrible as that. He felt so sorry for Eve for having to suffer something as horrible as that. He was glad in a way he was here for her now. Right now, she needed someone to comfort her.

He would comfort her until she felt better, even if it took the whole night.


	80. Leaving for home

**Five days later**

**March 2****nd**

A rainy day had descended over the Somme sector of the Western Front. Dark clouds hung in the air and each one was releasing thousands of tiny rain droplets to the surface of the world below. The men in the trenches had their coats draped over them to shield them from the rain, but they still remained where they were. Even though many of them did not want to remain here in the trenches, they had no choice but to stay. If they left, next to shame, they would be court-marshalled and that would also result in death for cowardice. They would just have to remain here until one side gave up or until both came to a peaceful solution to the war. The second option was most unlikely to happen so it would be a question of how long both sides would remain here on the Western Front until one side gave up.

Behind the frontline, about a mile from the military hospital, a train station was busy with activity as another train was about to leave. Several wounded were being loaded onto the train and several soldiers were getting off after returning from convalescent leave back home. A few officers were prowling about on the platform, one checking his pocket watch every few minutes to make sure the rain left on time and everyone that should not be on the platform was gone when it was to leave.

On the platform, a group of nurses and medics were ready to board a carriage on the train. Wally and Eve stood near the edge of the platform, looking silently at the train, both of them wearing their coats to shield their bodies from the rain. Eve was very quiet, still upset about the death of her father. Wally had been there to comfort her and had come with her today to say goodbye to her as she was going to have to go home to be with her mother and grandmother at this time of sadness within their family.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Wally asked her again for the fifth time.

He had been worried about her since she had received the news of her father's death and he had wanted to make sure she was okay. She was awfully quiet, obvious that the shock of the death of her father was still affecting her. Hopefully, she would be okay when she got back.

But that was _if_ she returned. There was a chance she may have to stay with her mother and grandmother for good. How long she would be, Wally or even she did not know. A few weeks? A month? A year? Neither of the two did not know.

"I'll be fine, Wally," she replied in a quiet voice but not turning to face him.

Wally breathed a quiet sigh. He was hoping she would be okay after some time away from the front. It was she needed, especially now, but he was worried she would suffer even when she was away from the front. Hopefully, that would not happen but then again you could never be sure how someone would react in the days following the initial shock of losing a family member.

Wally rested a hand on Eve's shoulder. "I hope you'll be okay, Eve," he said to her.

He embraced her tightly as well, not wanting to let go of her, but he had to. The train was about to leave. A whistle further down the platform sounded and the officer shouted for everyone to board the train. The nurses and medics nearby walked over to the carriage and began to climb on board.

"I have to go, Wally," Eve said after a few minutes.

He nodded and gave her one last tight embrace as if to leave lasting love mark on her before he released her.

"Take care of yourself, won't you," he said to her.

She nodded. "I will," she replied.

She gave him one last kiss on the cheek and turned and walked away towards the train. Wally watched her go and felt like someone important was being taken from him for good. That probably was the case now. Eve might not come back to the front at all now. She may have to stay outside Paris with her family for good.

When Eve reached the train, she, with the help of one of the medics, pulled herself up into the carriage. She turned to look at Wally and, with a small smile, waved at her as if to say _"Good luck," _and she waved back, giving him a small, but still an amazing smile.

Then the carriage door closed and the wheels of the train began to move forward down the rail away from the station. Wally watched as the train began to move slowly away, gradually picking up speed until finally it turned a corner near a row of trees and, one-by-one, the carriages of the train moved behind it and disappeared from sight.

Wally sighed and began to walk back towards the station building a few tens of metres ahead of him. He was hoping Eve would be able to cope with the loss of her father, but he could not tell if that would happen or not. He just wanted to be with her, but he had to stay here. This was something he would just have to hope she would come through in the end.

Fate would have to decide whether Eve come through this okay or not.


	81. Planning the Big Push

**March 22****nd**

**Ten miles behind the Somme frontline**

In a large town hall in a village behind the British sector of the frontline, a group of four commanders, all dressed in general uniforms with medals attached to their chests, were standing in a large windowless rectangular shaped room with three lights placed on the ceiling above them, all of which were turned on as there was no daylight coming in from outside, a large rectangular table with a map of the entire Somme front sector, showing the British, French and German frontline trenches (the British being drawn out red, the French blue and the German black) with the various villages and woods also showing behind the frontlines on the map. A single door was placed on the wall right of the table. This was the planning room.

"So what exactly have the Frenchies asked us for?" one of the commanders, who was tall and middle aged, about forty nine, with grey hair, brown eyes and skin that looked pale, probably because he had been ill recently, or maybe it was the fighting.

"They haven't asked us for anything other than help," another of the commanders, an averaged 6ft tall man who had short brown hair, green eyes and was about forty five years old. "Though what exactly, I don't know,"

One of the other commanders, who was short completely grey haired so it looked like it was turning white, and had blue eyes and a small scar running under his nose and onto the top of his lip and looked to be about sixty, looked at his pocket watch. "Where the bloody Hell's general Rawlinson?" he asked.

"He said he's meet us here," the fourth commander, who was also short, though he was slightly taller than the commander with the pocket watch, with short black hair, green eyes and was about forty five.

Then, as if on cue, the door to the room opened and another general walked in dressed in a general uniform that looked almost brand new. Two small medals were pinned to his chest and he had a small officer's hat clamped under his arm next to his side. He was balding around the top of his head with small strands of grey hair around the sides and back of his head. He had an aftershave around his chin and he had blue eyes, was somewhere between his late forties and late fifties and a face that looked serious and hard working. He was General Rawlinson.

"Morning gentlemen," he said, walking to the head of the table and resting his hat down on the side of it near the top right corner of the map. "Glad you all made it as we have a situation on our hands with the Frenchies,"

"What exactly is the Frenchies need our help with, sir?" the pale skinned commander asked.

"Well I take it you've all heard of the fiasco going on down at Verdun?" Rawlinson inquired and they all nodded. "Well, the French commander Marshal Petain has told me that even though they're holding out against the Germans, they can't hold out forever at the forts they got there. And they need us to help 'em,"

"So we're going to plan an attack?" the commander with the pocket watch inquired and Rawlinson nodded. "Why's that? Do we even have the manpower and the resources?"

"We will do," Rawlinson assured him. He sighed and leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the map, covering the top parts of the British and German frontlines. "The French believe that they've done most of the fighting and the dying against the Germans in the last two years and even though we've been fighting 'em hard as well, I have to agree that we haven't really launched any full scale attacks like they or the Germans have. But," he stood up straight again and held his hands behind his back, looking at men. "We're going to change all that,"

"You have an attack planned?" the short commander with black hair asked him and Rawlinson nodded.

"Yep," he replied. "We plan to strike at the Germans and break through their lines in one swift counterattack. Whilst they're sending almost all of their available men down to Verdun to aid in the attack, the rest of their frontline is quite thin in manpower so if we strike at 'em, we'll break through and curve around their lines and trap them and begin to drive 'em back towards Germany,"

"Well it does sound like a good plan, general," the short officer with almost white hair said. "But first of all, where is this going to take place?"

Rawlinson smiled a little; stifling a laugh as if he was acting the place of attack was completely obvious. He had already made up his mind about where the attack was to take place. Leaning forward and placing one hand on the table again, he pointed down at the top of the map and drove it down across the map towards the bottom, though having to stop at Thiepval as that was as far as he could reach.

"The entire Somme front," he said. "All the way south to the river where the Frenchies are dug in. We attack and kick 'em out of the Somme and then begin the push towards Germany and finally end this war," He stood up straight again and smiled at the map, pleased with himself. "It shall be called the Big Push," he told them. "And it will begin like this,"

He began to explain the plan to the commanders and set the date of the attack to be later on in the summer, just a few months away.

Once more, blood was going to be spilled across the Western Front in a large offensive and there was no way of telling of how long it would last until it finally ended.

**Author note**

**Today, we offer our respects to our fallen heroes on the ninety third anniversary of the Armistace that finally made the guns of the Western Front fall silent. This year's remembrance day is specially important for another reason next to remembering our fallen heroes. This year, it is now the first WW1 remembrance day where we no longer have a combatant veteran to watch us lay wreaths on the monuments to the fallen. The last combat veteran of WW1, Claude Choules, passed away on May 5th earlier this year at the age of 110. May we remember him and all who had given their lives to ensure we could have our freedom today. **


	82. Building up

**Twelve days later**

**Date: April 2****nd**

Spring seemed to have finally returned to the Western Front. A clear endless sea of blue colour now dominated the sky instead of the continuous mass of white and grey clouds that inter had brought in, a warm and gentle breeze was blowing through the air and for the first time in many months, birds were singing gracefully as they began to return to their homes, though they were having to now live near the frontlines for their original homes that had been in No Man's Land and where the trenches had been dud were gone, destroyed by the fighting that had been raging for almost two years now. It seemed there was just no end in sight to all of it. Would there ever be an end to this, or would it go on and on forever? Hopefully not, but it was up to fate and the decisions of the generals leading this conflict to decide upon that.

In one of the many small villages behind the British frontline at the Somme sector, several squads of men were taking their times away from the trenches relatively easy, for they may not have another chance to enjoy such peace again before they had to return to the trenches to continue the war against the Germans and as always, there was never a chance to tell whether they would live to the end of the next day.

Behind one of the ruined houses near a main road that ran along the right side of the village, Wally, Moe, Hans, William, Rupert and James and four other soldiers were lying about. Wally was lying against the side of the building with William, Moe and one of the other soldiers, a tall red haired twenty three year old with green eyes and was called Aiden, lying alongside him. Hans, Rupert and James were playing cards and the other three soldiers were sitting around a piece of wood to act as the cards table, watching the game between them.

Wally shifted a little as he looked over across the road at the expanse of fields on the other side. He smiled a little. It reminded him of home a little bit. It's green beauty entranced him, making him think of the farm back home in Britain. How he longed to go back, but at long as this war was raging, that would not be possible. If only it would just end so they could all go home.

"Ah, no!" a voice hissed from the group around the wooden 'table' and Wally, William, Moe and Aiden looked over at them to see Rupert throw his cards down on the table, sighing in annoyance.

"You lost again?" Aiden inquired.

Rupert nodded. "Yep," he replied in a low and annoyed sounding tone.

William chuckled. "Ya'll win eventuallr Ruper'," he said.

"Yeah, don' worry. You 'll eventuall' become a big winner like me," Moe added.

"That's not true you've lost every card game you've played against Hans, me, Adam and Stanley," Wally piped up and everyone else smiled or tried not to laugh at Moe.

Moe shot a fake confused look. "I have no'!" he protested.

"Yeah, you have," Hans piped him, drawing his and everyone else's attention. "And yet there ya are tryin' to act like you 'ave won every card you've played,"

Moe shot up in a triumphant manner. "Alrigh', I'll show ya all that I can beat ya all," he said and he walked over to the table.

Wally stifled a laugh. "This ought to be fun," he whispered to William and Aiden, who chuckled in reply.

"Alright lads?" a voice inquired and the three looked over towards the road to see Adam walking towards them. He sat down on the ground in front of them.

"Ya been to the hospital again?" William asked him.

"Uh…yes," Adam replied, nodding a little.

"Why, ya got something wrong with ya?"

"No," Adam shook his head. "I was just checking something there," he said.

William went to ask why, but they all heard Moe growl and they all looked over at the table.

"I thought you said you could win any game," Hans said to him smugly.

"Yea, well…this is a…just a first off," he replied, trying to act like he could still win. "I'll bea' ya,"

"Let's go watch," Aiden said to William, who nodded and the two got up and walked over to the table, leaving Wally and Adam alone.

When the others were around the table, Wally looked at Adam.

"Did you get anything from Wendy?" he asked.

Adam nodded. "Yeah, just a letter to say what's been goin' on and that she misses me and all that," he replied, sighing a little. "Wish I could back and see her," he said.

"Don't we all," Wally muttered under his breath.

"Which reminds me, I heard what happened to that nurse Eve," he said to Wally, who nodded. "Really unexpected for that to happen. Was she alright?"

"Not really, she was really upset when I went to see her," Wally told Adam. "I couldn't believe it either when she told me that her father was dead. I stayed with her for about half an hour until she eased up a little bit,"

Adam smiled a little "That's good of ya, Wally," he said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "In the letter Wendy sent me, she told me she lost her granddad a couple of weeks ago and was really upset," he sighed. "I felt really bad I couldn't go back and comfort her,"

"Well…I hope you get to see her again," Wally told him. "I mean; do you not have any convalescent leave coming up soon?" he asked.

Adam shook his head sadly. "No. Not for a while yet," he replied. He looked up at the wall, in the direction of the trenches and the frontline. A faint and distant booming sound began to fill the air, meaning a barrage from either side had just started. "I only this would end," he muttered. "Can you imagine if it would all end right now?" he asked Wally.

"Not really, but I want to," he replied.

Adam chuckled a little and looked up at the sky as if looking to God and Heaven and mentally praying that this war would finally end, right now if it could, and they could all go home and back to their families and friends and lovers. It just seemed so far away now. It was like they were going to be kept here forever, which it had felt like as they had been here for so long, though it was only two years but it felt like an entire lifetime had passed.

Then, as Adam looked down the sky, a truck passed by. He and Wally watched it pass, but saw it was an open toped truck filled with men. Then another truck passed, that one also open topped and filled with men. A third and then a fourth followed. Then a fifth and so on.

"What the Hell?" Adam said, getting up from the ground. Wally got up as well, both of them watching the tenth and last truck drive down the cobbled road in the direction of the trenches.

"Never seen that many pass before," Wally said.

"Neither have I," Adam replied.

"You two alright?" William asked as the rest of the group looked questionably at them.

"What's wrong?" Moe asked.

"We just saw about ten truck pass by, all of them filled with soldiers," Wally answered.

The group looked at each other and got up and walked over. The squad looked down the cobbled road to see the trucks turn right slightly and drive across the fields, still heading in the direction of the trenches. This was strange. They had regularly seen trucks pass to and from the trenches on their days away from the trenches, but…not so many in one go. What was going on?

"You think It's a new offensive?" Aiden asked.

"Maybe," Hans replied. "If it's bein' launched today, then thank God we ain't in the trenches,"

Moe nodded. "Yea, right let's back to the card game," he said and the group walked back towards the card table. Adam shrugged.

"Their probably right, Wally," he said. "It might just be another offensive,"

He turned and walked back to where he had been sitting. Wally, however, stayed where he was, looking over at the trucks as they disappeared into the distance across the field. For some reason, he just could not get it out of him that this was just the beginning, that this was just a prelude to something that was coming. Maybe it was an offensive, but one that would be much bigger than they would usually be familiar with.

Question was, if it would be a much larger offensive; then when was it going to be launched?


	83. Talking of past tragedies

**Fifteen days later**

**Date: April 17****th**

Another spring day had descended over the Western Front, though today it was little milder than before. A few clouds were dotted about and a cooler breeze was blowing through the air than a warm one. It looked peaceful, but with the war waging on the world below it was not peaceful at the same time.

In a British trench in the Somme sector of the frontline, the soldiers were busy clearing away the rubble and the bodies of the dead after a recent trench attack. The Germans, as usual on the Western Front, had fired a barrage of shells into the British trenches to soften them up before attacking with infantry. The British had managed to repel the attack but decided to not to retaliate with an attack of their own on the German trenches, though they were keeping an eye on them to make sure that the Germans did not try and strike at them again.

Outside the dugout, Wally, William, Moe and James were clearing away the rubble of what had been side wall of the trench facing No Man's Land. Further down the trench, Hans and three other soldiers were keeping watch over No Man's Land, as were two men in the machine gun nest, one of who was manning the machine gun.

"See anythin'?" one of the men in the machine gun nest asked Hans.

"Nah," he replied, looking through the pair of binoculars in his hand. "I thin' they're lettin' us have a break," he said.

"Oh, careful!" William said as he, Wally and Moe lifted up a large piece of wood that had been part of the wall. As they did, James saw a body lying on the ground underneath it.

"Hey guys, look," he said.

The three placed the piece of wood against the trench wall behind them and looked down at the body as James turned it over. It was Rupert. He had large holes in the front of his uniform, indicating he had been killed by shrapnel, probably from a mortar shell that had brought the piece of wood on top of him.

"Poor bastard," James said.

William sighed. "Can' believe tha',"

"Best go ge' a stretcher beare'," Moe said and he got up and walked off down the long section of trench behind them towards one the rear trenches at the back. The others stood up, gazing down at his body.

"Can't believe he's gone," Wally said.

"I thought he had taken cover somewhere," James replied. He sighed. "Well, at least he's out of this now,"

Wally nodded slightly. Rupert was safe and free of this fighting now, though in the very common way in which anyone on the front would be free from this. He could only imagine what would happen when his family received word of his death. It would be horrible for them knowing that his mother and father and other relatives would never see him again. Another man lost in this horrible and long and costly war.

At that moment, Moe came back with a stretcher in his hands. "Let's put 'im on," he said.

He set the stretcher down on the muddy wooden board covered floor whilst Wally, William and James moved Rupert's body onto it. Moe and James picked it up and carried it down the long section of the trench to be taken off to a large gravesite not far behind the line.

A sigh made Wally turn his head to see William wipe his eye. "Are you alright?" Wally asked, resting his hand on William's shoulder.

"Yea, I-I'm alrigh'," he replied. He sighed again and looked down the long section of trench to see Moe and James turn right into the section of the rear trench at the end. "Just tha'…" he paused for a moment. "It's… Difficult losin' a mate tha' ya've known for a long time,"

Wally nodded. "I know how you feel, William," he replied. "I've lost a lot of friends here as well after we came down here. Was Rupert with you long?"

"Abou' five months. No' really tha' long, but 'ere, tha' is a long time," he sighed again. "Great person he was. A bit of laugh and real nice mate,"

Wally nodded, taking all of it in. It was hard for someone to lose a friend, especially in a kind of war like this where neither side was making any gains and hundreds were dying for nothing, but still it went on and he began to wonder, and he mentally hit himself for thinking something like this, how long it would be before William or Moe or James or Hans or anyone else he knew would be next to leave this war and be buried in the ground.

Sighing again, he and William resumed the work of clearing away the rubble and the bodies of the dead, trying not to think about their fallen comrade. Around them, the other soldiers did the same task or continued to watch the German lines, waiting to see if they would strike again.


	84. Revealing the offensive

**Fourteen days later**

**May 1****st**

The days of spring were slowly starting to drag on into summer. The weather was getting warmer and brighter, the cool breezes were starting to die down to there being no wind at all and the days themselves were slowly getting longer. Summer was on It's way, but it would be a while before it fully descended on the world.

In the rear trenches, Wally, Hans, Moe, James and William were standing talking to Adam, who was telling them of what he knew of something big planned for the future, only about two or three months away.

"So It's a real big offensive?" James asked Adam, who nodded.

"Yep," he replied. "Real big 'un. Planned for some point in the next few months. Don't know exactly when, but most likely somewhere around the end of next month,"

"And wha' s'posed to be 'appening?" Moe asked.

"Well, from what I've heard, we'll be attacking the German lines after a long bombardment, about five days long apparently, and then we go over the top and attack their lines and brush aside wha's left of 'em and, as the commanders and high ranking officers have put it, we'll be through the German lines in a matter of hours, a day at the most,"

"How far is the offensive supposed to be?" Wally asked Adam.

"About twenty five miles long, from the Frenchy sector at the Somme River to some village north of here," he answered. "We're kind of at the very top of the centre of the line our forces are marching from,"

"And 'ow many men are involved in this attac'?" William asked.

Adam shook his head a little and shrugged. "Dunno," he replied. "Several tens of thousands, at the least 'cause they're expecting more to be put into it,"

The squad looked at each other with a bit of shock but mostly awe in their eyes. An offensive of this plan was almost certain to be as big as Adam had described it if it was to break through the Germans lines in a matter of hours, or a day at the most. What really did surprise them was that it was so close. Usually it would take months, even if they had been starting it from early on in the year, to prepare something of this size in a war. It was a little unnerving though. It being this close and of a large magnitude with this many men did sound a little rushed.

"What exactly is this offensive supposed to bring?" Wally asked Adam after a few seconds silence.

"An end to the war," he replied.

Upon hearing those five words, the squad members went wide-eyed and looked at one another. An early end to the war? Wow! That…that had…barely ben thought of in such an offensive for a long time. They could not believe it! If this offensive was to break through the German lines and get into Berlin, then…then they could all go home.

"Are you bein' serious?" Moe asked, aghast, and Adam nodded.

"Yes, from what I've heard," he replied. He looked right at the end of the trench system. "If it works, which it most likely will do, we can finally go home,"

Home. That word hit the squad like a sledgehammer. It brought happiness and relief to their hearts as if they had not seen or heard anything like it before, or at least not for a long time. Finally, this offensive would win them the war and they could all go home, back to their normal lives and back to their friends and lovers and families. All of it…they could finally end all of this.

For Wally, the word home brought much relief to him. He could see his home country again, his brother, horses, parents…oh, it was so great. He would have to tell Eve when she re-… Oh! A sense of loss filled him like water filling up a tank. He still did not know if Eve was returning home yet. She had been for almost two months to comfort her mother and her grandmother after her father had died at Verdun. What was kind of disturbing and saddening was that even she was not certain if she would return to the hospital. If not, then he could at least write to her and tell her about this offensive and she would know that the war would be coming to an end soon.

"Oh, eyes up! Eyes up!" Hans warned, nodding down the section of the trench behind Adam.

They all looked and groaned to see a familiar face; one they all wished was somewhere else, walking towards them. It was Gomer. He was holding his cane behind his back with the end pointing towards the trench floor.

"Ah, good morning, gentlemen," he said when he reached the squad.

"You been busy, corporal Gomer?" Adam asked.

"Yes, I have, thank you for asking," he replied, smiling and straightening himself up a little. "And It's sergeant Gomer now, just to let you all know," he said.

"Oh, ya been promo'ed," Moe said in a fake surprised tone, which Gomer easily recognized but just humphed.

"Yes, something I dearly hope you will learn to do one day," he replied sarcastically. "I've been busy with the officers here on the upcoming attack to break through the German lines," he explained. "I'll be leading a group of soldiers to the German lines," he finished in a voice that was acting as if it was quite proud of himself.

"Well don' go runnin' off now, will ya," Moe said. "Don' be runnin' off like ya did las' time,"

Gomer frowned at him. "I would be careful with what you say, soldier," he said in a tone that he tried to make threatening, but he was not scaring anyone. "I am your superior officer now and I can easily have you court marshalled and punished, so I would watch your lip," he stepped towards the long section of trench, but stopped and looked at them all again. "I'll be keeping an eye on you when the attack is launched," he said and he stepped over to Wally. "Especially you, Wallace," he said and with that, he walked down the long section of trench towards the frontline trench.

"He should actually keep an eye on his legs," Wally said when Gomer was out of earshot. "I bet when the attack's launched, he'll be walking the other way _away_ from the fighting rather than _toward_s it,"

The others laughed at his joke. Knowing Gomer; that could most likely happen and probably would.


	85. A letter from an old friend

**Seventeen days later**

**May 18****th**

Even though summer was rolling in, it looked like nature wanted to make sure the world was wet as if it wanted to keep it from drying up. Dark grey clouds hung in the air and light rain was falling from them onto the ground below. Those in the trenches had their coats on, but still they remained where they were, even though the mud was running into the trench from No Man's Land and the floor of the trench was almost completely covered with a small river of mud. Sandbags had been placed in front of the dugouts and holes in the sides of the trenches, but still some of the mud managed to squeeze through into the dugouts and holes, partially flooding the floors with mud. Still, none of this seemed to deter the men from leaving. It was as if they were statues, and they did kind of act like them for they had to stay where they were, but unlike statues they could leave but only when ordered to. Statues could never leave where they were positioned at their own will. They had to stay there until they were either destroyed or moved or eroded by time. All three of which usually took a very long time.

In the British trench to the west of Thiepval, there were a few men still out and keeping an eye out across No Man's Land but there was really no need. There were barely any Germans out in their trenches as most of them had retreated inside the holes and dugouts to wait out the storm. The British had done the same but their commanders were still cautious of a German attack and they still believed their men should be ready for the attack so they had ordered a few men to stay out in the trenches and keep an eye on the Germans, something which had received a few grumbles and monas, but still had to go ahead. If the men disobeyed, they could easily be court marshalled and imprisoned or even shot on the spot. They just have to remain here until this all ended, but when it would end no one, not even the commanders on either side, knew. Hopefully, it would not be too long.

In the dugout, the squad were making the most of their time out of the trench. Hans was lying asleep in bed on his side, trying to shake off the last of a light cold he had had for a few days; Moe was reading a letter he had gotten earlier from home, his boot placed on the floor next to the bunk bed, and Wally was lying on his bed, his head resting on the pillow and boots placed on the floor with his feet dangling over the end of the bed, finishing the last few pages of his _Oliver Twist_ book. Outside, the light splashing noise of the rain hitting the mud outside in the trench filled the air.

As Wally turned over the last page in his book, he heard Moe chuckle.

"Oh, dear," he said.

"What is it?" Wally asked.

"It's me mother," Moe replied, sitting up a little. "'ad a bit of trouble with her decoratin' in the house. Wen' to move a small cabine' of her fancy pla'es and the whole thing fell over and smashed," Moe and Wally chuckled as he said this. "Yeah, she's very annoye' by it,"

"Who wouldn't be," Wally said.

"Oh, blimey!"

The two looked over towards the dugout entrance to see Adam step over the small pile of sandbags placed in the entrance to the dugout, his coat which, wrapped tightly around him, was soaking wet, as was his hat and black hair sticking out of the bottom of it at the back of his head and his boots were covered in mud from having to walk through it outside in the trench. A backpack was in his hand, but it too was soaking wet and covered with a few splotches of mud.

"Bloody Hell, It's like a storm out there," he said. "Wind's starting to pick up a little as well," he grunted as he took the backpack off his back and dropped it on his bed. "Poor buggers over in the fields behind the line. Soaked through some of 'em were,"

"Well….better them than us," Moe said in a low voice.

The other two nodded slightly. As much as they felt sorry for the soldiers out in the trenches, they did think it was better them being stuck outside in the rain than them themselves. Even Wally, who really did not want to agree to something like that himself, had to admit it. It may have sounded selfish or horrible, but it was better them than him.

Adam sat down on the bed and opened his backpack. Hans stirred a little as he slept on.

"How's he been?" Adam asked.

"Nothing much," Wally answered. "He's been asleep whilst you've been away. By the way, where's our _new sergeant_?" he asked, adding a low tone on the last two words as if he was dreading to even say them.

"He's in the war room at an HQ somewhere behind the line," Adam replied. "As usual at the moment, It's ta do with this offensive,"

"'Im, plannin'?" Moe asked as if shocked by what he was hearing, sitting up on his bed. "I never though' I'd hear it,"

Adam nodded in agreement. "Same here. You've got more chance of a monkey planning in the war room with the commanders than Gomer,"

Moe and Wally smirked a little at Adam's joke and went back to what they were doing, though as Adam began rifling through his backpack, he took out a small letter.

"Hey Wally, a letter came through earlier on," he said.

Wally looked up from his book, a slightly worried expression on his face. Another letter? Was it going to be from… He hoped not, but what if it was?

"Um…w-who's it from?" he asked, stammering a little.

"They said it came from Britain, but it says here on the front 'from an old friend',"

Now Wally was just confused. From an old friend? Who could have sent it to him? As far as he was concerned, apart from home, he could not think of anyone else back home who would send him a letter.

Adam threw the letter over to him, which he sat up and caught and looked at the front. The words _To Wallace Burtt, from an old friend _were written in black ink across the front of it. Curious about who had sent this to him, he opened it and took out a small folded piece of paper and opened it up and began to read the letter.

_Dear Wally,_

_I hope you get this letter because I wanted to say thanks to you again. If you don't remember me, It's Albert. _

Wally's eyes went wide when he read the first two sentences. A-Albert! He was alive! He-the last he had heard from him was when Adam had told him that he and his horse Joey were dead when their train had been hit by shellfire. It was…It was a miracle that they had survived.

Looking down at the letter, he read on.

_Me and Joey were lucky on the night we stopped in a village. The train got hit by bombs or shellfire. Anyway, we were buried under the remains of our carriage with four others and we were just about ready to give in when they found us and we were evacuated the next day on the next train. A lucky escape huh?_

_When we got back to Britain, my father was really shocked to see me and Joey back. I had to lie to him and say that it was because the army no longer needed him and he believed it. Joey's recovering well and he's glad to be back in the fields again. And so am I. Thanks so much for your help, Wally. I never thought we would see him again until you helped me._

Stay safe and I hope you come back safe and sound. Say hello to Moe and Hans for me. 

At the bottom of the piece of paper was a small hoof-print of ink with the words: _Joey says hello! _Written next to it. Wally smiled a little and sighed happily. Albert and Joey were alive. It seemed like a new light had been shined on him after spending a very long time in darkness and he was glad to see it. He was happy that Albert and Joe were alive and they were safe and away from here.

It was then he remembered that Albert had wanted him to do something for him.

"Hey guys," Wally said, making Moe and Adam look over at him. Wally got up and shook Hans slightly.

"Uuuuhh! W-whass goin' on?" he asked as he turned over onto his back.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Adam asked.

"I got a letter from Albert," Wally replied.

"Who?" Moe asked.

"The one who had the horse that me and him saved,"

"Never!" Adam said, aghast. "I thought he was dead,"

Wally shook his head. "No, he sent me this letter. Come look,"

The others got up from their beds and walked over to the table as Wally sat down on one of the crates and showed them the letter.


	86. Eve returns

**Fourteen days later**

**June 1****st**

Ah, finally! Months of changing weather from sunny days to days in which the men on either side of the Western Front would retreat into their dugouts or any available cover from the rain or cold were starting to end. The days were much longer now and the amount of sunny days that would befall over the front was increasing as well. Soon, the full swing of summer would be over the Western Front. It would be a lot better soon but a few more days, maybe weeks, remained of the constant changing weather before it finally surrendered and went into summer.

Not far behind the British frontline, Wally stood on the platform of a train station in his army uniform, waiting patiently for the next train. He had been happy for the past few days and today that happiness had come to a head. The reason: a few days ago Adam had come back from the army HQ in the hospital, again checking to see if he had received anything from Wendy back home in Britain, and he had discovered that Eve was returning today. When he had told Wally this, he was overjoyed and this morning had rushed out without having anything to eat to meet her here.

He sighed and looked right in the direction of which the train would be arriving at the station. Although he was trying to be patient as best he could, he just wanted her train to arrive at the station already. Not only was he overjoyed that he was going to see her again, he had something important to tell her and he did not want to not have to.

_Wonder where the train is? _He mentally asked himself.

Then, as if on cue, a loud whistle screamed from nearby, filling the air, and a large shaped moved into view. Wally's face lit up as he watched the front of the train move forward along the platform, dragging several large carriages behind it. There were about six in total and all were a maroon-like colour, but whether the paint of the metal had been chipped or worn away or the carriages had had a new paint colour started on them but suddenly cut short he did not know, but all over the carriages, the second one especially, was a dark silver colour over almost the whole of them.

_Talk about decorating _Wally thought as the carriages came to a halt.

The large doors on the sides of the carriages were pushed open from the insides and many soldiers and nurses inside began to file out of the carriages. Wally searched the faces of the nurses as they came off the train one-by-one, trying to find Eve. Where was she?

"I hope Adam was right," he muttered to himself.

The first carriage had emptied after a few moments, the second emptying completely a few seconds after, and the nurses and soldiers were beginning to leave the platform. Worry began to grow inside Wally like a growing plant. Where was Eve? Adam had told him that she was coming back on the next train, which was this one. Had he or anyone at the hospital made a mistake or was he just lying? Hopefully not either of those two, but Wally could not just get it out of him that she might not be here.

Then, he saw a woman with almost silver coloured hair in the crowd that was getting off the fourth carriage. Squinting a little, he looked at the face of the woman and, once his eyes rested on her face when it came into view, his face lit up. It was her! He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, Adam and the hospital had gotten it right.

He walked over towards carriage as the crowd Eve was part of as those who had just gotten off began to leave the platform. She saw him and smiled and ran towards him, opening her arms. Wally began to move towards her much quickly, almost running himself. When she reached him, she launched herself into his arms.

"Wally!" she exclaimed as she embraced him tightly. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"You too, Eve," he replied.

They held their position for…forever it seemed to them, drawing a few chuckles and rolling of the eyes by some of the nurses and the soldiers around them, before they let go of each other.

"How are you?" Wally asked.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you again,"

"Me too," he replied. "C'mon, we better leave the platform,"

They joined the crowd as they walked away across the platform to the edge. Wally stepped down onto the ground and, holding Eve's hand, helped her down.

"So…um, how are your mother and grandmother?" he asked as they walked away from the station.

"They're okay," Eve replied, a less hint of happiness in her voice. "Funeral was about six weeks ago. Some German officers sent back his body and we buried it in the field near where my grandmother lives near Paris," she explained. "I had to sort out how they were going to cope, both mentally and financially, and my dad's pay has been put into a pension that been sent to my mother and grandmother. It's not much, but I don't think they'll complain,"

Wally nodded. "Sorry about that, Eve," he said.

"It's okay," she replied, giving him a small smile as she looked up at him. "There's not really a lot I can do about it now. I just have to…put it behind me and get back to helping others,"

Wally nodded. "Yes. Actually, Eve, there's something I need to tell you that I think you'll be quite happy to hear," he said to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well… Earlier on this month, word's been going around that an offensive is in place," he explained. "One on the Somme where I'll be,"

"Oh," Eve replied, sounding a little surprised. "Well, not to be rude, but is this supposed to be important or surprising,"

Wally nodded. "Yes. This offensive is a big one, and I mean a real big one. From what I've heard, it involves over…God, I don't know, twenty, thirty thousand men,"

"Seriously?" Eve asked him, aghast. Never before had she heard of, or even thought of an offensive that had that many men involved in it. The size of the area that it would be involved in was likely to be huge as well. Wally nodded. "Whoa!" she said. "I…I r-really can't believe this. Is it gonna be that big,"

"Yes, and, if it works, which I really think it will do, it will break through the German lines and we can end the war,"

Eve's eyes lit up. "Oh, Wally," she said, throwing herself against him and embracing him tightly. "I'm so glad," she said, heaving a heavy sigh as she rested the side of her head on his shoulder. "Finally! This suffering and killing… It's finally gonna be over,"

"I know," Wally replied. "Just think, in a few weeks from now all of this will be over and we can finally go home,"

The thoughts of home filled them both. Eve was glad that when the offensive would be over, she and her mother would be able to return to their home in Ruesnes village again. Wally was happy that he was going to be seeing his brother and –

That last thought he had made uncertainty rise through him. Would it be so good for him to return home after the war ended? He did not feel like it would, but he would have to, regardless of how he felt when he returned. He would have to have that thought nagging away at him forever if he returned home when the war ended.

"Are you alright, Wally?" Eve asked, looking up at him with a hint of concern in her eyes.

"Oh-uh! Uh, yes. Sorry," he said, snapping back into reality. "I'm fine," he looked over his shoulder to see the crowd moving past them. "We better get going," he said to Eve and they joined the crowd as they walked in the direction of the frontline.


	87. Hal thinking

**Nine days later  
June 10****th**

**Location: Ypres**

If there was one thing memorable about the summer nights was that they tended to have clear skies and a gentle breeze blowing through the air and they tended to be peaceful if you were out in a field or on a beach. An almost crescent moon shone brightly in the sky which was dotted with hundreds of stars. However, here up at Ypres, it was the opposite. Although the British trench, which had previously been a new German trench before being taken in an attack earlier on in the year, had been dug into a field, it was not peaceful even though it looked that way. Just over a hundred yards away across No Man's Land were the German frontline trenches and even though both sides were setting down for the night, there was no way to tell that at any moment one side might launch an attack on the other. Those that were in the trenches were mostly hoping that would not happen but so much had happened over the short time many of them had been at the front that they did not know whether to even try and hope for anything anymore.

In one of the small square shaped holes in the side of the frontline British trench, a young man sat on the wooden/earth floor, his back leaning against the wooden wall and his head half-resting on his shoulder. His eyes were red from lack of sleep caused by the constant barrages and the fear of attack, his uniform was dirty in places with mud and faded in colour and his skin looked rough and grey. He looked to be at least ten years older than he actually was. It was Hal. Driven into a small mound of dirt next to him was a candle that illuminated the hole. In his hands was a letter he had gotten the other day in the mail. It was from his brother, Wally.

For probably the hundredth time over the past few days, he read the letter.

_Dear Hal,_

_I hope you get this letter within a few days. I'm sorry I haven't written to you in a while, but a lot has been going on down here at the Somme. I don't take It's any better where you are. I hope you're okay and well._

_What I'm writing to you about is finally some good news (what a surprise!)_ - (Hal stifled a laugh as he read that line) -_An offensive has been planned for some time in the next few weeks. Down here, there's been a huge build-up of men and guns and such. From what I've heard now, there's over forty thousand involved in the planned attack. And, and this is the good news, It's to break through the German lines, which, if it happens, which the commanders have promised it will, then the war will be over soon._

_I really hope this succeeds because I think you and I can agree that we've had it with this war and all this fighting and death. I'll be glad to see you again, Hal, and that we're going back to Britain._

_Anyway, I have to go now. Something's going on outside. I'll see you back in Calais at the end of the summer maybe._

_Your brother, Wally._

Hal smiled as he finished reading the letter. Oh, this was great! The end of the war was near. Finally, after almost two years of death and destruction and constant fighting and living in filthy conditions in the trenches, they would finally get to be able to go home! Oh, it would be great to see Wally and mother and father again. And the horses. He had missed them all and finally they would be reunited at the end of this horrible war.

Hal looked up out of the hole and up at the sky as if he was looking up at Heaven. How he wished it could over tonight, just like almost everyone on the front would, but it would take more than wishing and luck to bring this war to an end.

_I just hope Wally survives the offensive _Hal thought to himself.

After thinking that thought, he mentally hit himself. Why was he thinking something like that? Of course he would survive the offensive! He had lasted this long had he not? Hal cursed at himself and told himself he _would_ see Wally again when the war was over. Maybe at the end of the summer, maybe a month earlier or later, but he _would_ see Wally again.

"I'll just have to wait for that day to come," he muttered to himself.


	88. The first time

**Thirteen days later**

**June 23****rd**

With every summer night, there were good and bad things that affected anyone that happened to be out. Usually, the good things were the stars that would dot the night sky, along with the moon if it was out, the peacefulness of being outside and the weather being very calm. The bad things were the opposites of all the good things mentioned, but in the summer all of those were quite rare to happen. No wonder why summer was so popular to everyone.

However, on the frontline of the Western Front, there was a new bad thing that affected the whole entirety of the summer night and that was the war, especially at the Somme area because now the planned offensive of the British army was close, at the most just about two weeks away. The Germans seemed to have sensed what was coming as they had been sending over air reconnaissance planes more recently and even sending soldiers out into No Man's Land to spy on the British lines, though these soldiers were usually mown down by machine gun fire before they had gotten too far. This had slightly unnerved the British soldiers but nothing was really done, either because their commanders believed the Germans had not found out anything of when the attack would be launched and how it would be launched, or because they believed that even if the Germans did know anything, it would too late for them to do anything about it.

Still, though, the British soldiers in the trenches were waiting tensely for the offensive. Though they were excited that this attack would finally bring an end to the war, nervousness rang through them like a flood for they knew that the Germans would be fierce in their defence of their frontline and they were asking themselves if they would be alive when it was over. Whether they would or not would be up to fate to decide.

"Alright, get ready to go over the top, you two,"

In the British trench west of Thiepval, Wally and another soldier called Dick prepared themselves to go over the top into No Man's Land to spy on the German trenches to see if their trenches had been fitted with strong defences in preparation for the coming attack. An elderly officer of about fifty was standing in front of them, looking out over No Man's Land with about three other soldiers, all of who were keeping an eye out in case any Germans tried to sneak across No Man's Land towards their trenches.

Wally handed Sam the binoculars and picked up his rifle. "Well, good luck to us," Wally said.

Sam nodded. He was a tall soldier, a little taller than Wally, with short black hair, brown eyes but was rail thin and was about seventeen years old. He was a Scottish soldier from somewhere in the north of Scotland. He had arrived at the front about a week ago, having been forced to join up because of something he would not say back home in Britain, though he had said that what had caused him to join up had forced many others where he lived to be forced into the army as well.

"Yea', goo' luck ta us," he replied, a hint of fear in his voice.

Wally knew how he felt. After being here for over a year, he knew very well how new soldiers would feel when they came to the front and realised that it was not a glory adventure than had been portrayed back home, something that he himself had believed when he and his brother had joined the army.

"You two ready?" the officer asked.

Wally and Sam looked at each other and nodded. "We're ready," Wally replied.

"Alrigh', good luck," he said. "We'll set off the flare in a few minutes," he added.

Wally and Sam nodded and walked to the trench wall facing No Man's Land and climbed up a small ladder that had been placed there by the officer about ten minutes earlier into the wasteland that separated the two sides.

At once, Wally felt like he had entered a new world. Even though he was virtually living next to it in the trenches, it had been a while since the British had attacked the German trenches. The many shell holes dotted the mud covered ground, many of them having bodies laid out in them or across the ground. There were many of these unburied dead scattered across No Man's Land and, upon looking at one body that was lying in a shell hole and had been there for several days, Wally, grimacing at the result of it, hoped that neither he or Sam would be joining them tonight.

As they made their way slowly across the wasteland, almost crouched to avoid exposing themselves to the Germans, the two could hear the Germans talking in their trenches, though it was faint to hear. Obviously, they were unaware of their presence in No Man's Land and they hoped it would stay that way. About a quarter of the way across, Wally turned to Sam, who was walking alongside him.

"Do you think we're close enough yet?" he asked, whispering.

"I dunno," Sam replied, also whispering. "Les jus' get inta a shell'ole b'fore we get spotte' by the 'uns-"

Suddenly, Sam was cut off when the world seemed to light up around and above them. For a moment, the two were blinded. What was this and where was this coming from? Then, it hit them.

"Quick, into the shell hole!" Wally exclaimed, grabbing Sam and throwing themselves into a large shell hole next to them. They sat up and leaned the side slope of the trench, breathing heavily from the shock.

"I thought they weren't going to fire them yet," Wally said.

Sam nodded. "Either they lied or they go' their timin' wrong," he replied.

As they hit the ground, they heard shouting coming from the German trenches. Sam gave Wally a worried look.

"I 'ope they 'aven't seen us," he said.

"Same here," Wally replied.

They waited for about ten seconds, not even daring to move as if the Germans would hear or see them despite the fact they were hiding in a hole, blocked completely from their view. It was as if they were statues, only they had been left in No Man's Land and now they were stuck with little way of getting back to the safety of their lines.

Finally, Wally slowly turned over, the light of the flare beginning to fade away above them and poked his head up from the hole, looking over at the German trenches. Though the flare was beginning to flicker slightly now, the trenches and several figures moving about, rushing from one end of his peripheral vision to the other, in them were illuminated by it.

"I can just about see their trench," Wally said to Sam. "But we may need to get closer,"

"Oh, joy!" Sam muttered sarcastically, something which Wally mentally agreed with, but they could not retreat back to their trenches. They had to do this or they would be shot for cowardice. Either way, they could, and probably would, die in this mission, even if it meant coming from their own side.

Sam pulled himself up to the edge of the shell hole and looked up, glancing around to see if there were any other large shell holes near the German trenches. He sighed. There were a few, but the problem was they were too close to the German trenches for them to try and get to and even if they did try and get to them, they would be literally offering themselves to be killed.

Sighing again, he looked over at Wally. "I think we're stuck in 'ere, Wal-"

Suddenly, a burst of machine gun fire filled the air, the dirt being thrown up into the air near the side of the shell hole just inches from the two, spraying some of it onto them. Reacting instantly, Wally threw himself into the side of the shell hole and covered his head. He felt the air move as some of the machine gun bullets zipped over his head just above the shell hole. It was as if they were cutting through existence, looking for a life to take. Knowing how close he was to the German front, Wally knew that if he had not reacted quick enough, then his life could have been taken.

After about five second, the machine gun bullets stopped and Wally gingerly looked up and, slowly, raised his head out of the shell hole until his eyes were looking directly at the German trench. The light from the flare had gone and he could not see the machine gun or any figures moving about in the trench, as if they had melted away into the darkness. Maybe that was a good thing.

"That was a close one, wasn't it, Sam," he said.

Sam did not reply. "Sam?" Wally repeated, looking next to him to see that his comrade was not there. Where was he?

Then, Wally noticed a shape lying at the bottom of the shell hole. Looking fully towards it, he saw it was a body. It was Sam's Wally's eyes went wide and he moved down to the bottom of the shell hole next to Sam and he moved his hair that was obscuring his forehead from view to see a single bullet hole. His eyes were wide open, a look of surprise and shock, the very last feeling he had had before his life was taken from him and he became another casualty of the war. The binoculars were still being held tight in his hand.

Wally sighed. "Sorry, Sam," he said.

He crawled away from the body and looked up at the hole in the direction of the German trenches and then at the opposite end of the shell hole in the direction of the British trenches. What was he to do now? He was on his own. Sam was dead and there was no chance of the British sending another flare into the air to lighten up the battlefield for it would probably draw the attention of the German artillery. He was virtually on his own now, as if cut off from the world, existence even. He was going to have to try and get back to the British trench, only if, that was, the German machine gunners were not looking for him.

Slowly and keeping his head low, Wally crawled up the side of the shell hole and poked his head from it, looking over at the British trenches. Luckily, he and Sam had not gone too far from them, just a little under half-way across No Man's Land, but for Wally, it was too far.

"How do I get out of here?" he said to himself.

_Only with fate and luck on our side _his mind seemed to reply.

Then, Wally remembered something. His gun. He looked around and saw it lying on the other side of the shell hole where he had been lying a few moments earlier. Keeping low, he crawled over to the other side of the shell hole and picked up his gun and back over to the other side. He had his gun, even though he doubted he was going to use it, but he was still stuck out in No Man's Land.

"How do I get out of here?" he growled at himself.

Suddenly, a scraping sound filled his ears. Wally shot round, screamed…and inadvertently fired. Another scream.

For a moment, Wally sat where he was rotted to the spot, his eyes wide with terror as a figure rolled down to the bottom of the shell hole, stopping alongside Sam's body, and his chest heaving in and out with shock. He-he had….he had fired and…and hit someone!

"Oh my God!" Wally whispered.

B-but-but it was an accident! He was just scared...and…well, it was an accident. He had taken his weapon though and he had fired it. This would not have happened if he had picked it up! Still, he did not mean to do it.

The figure groaned in pain and placed a hand on his chest, breathing raggedly and quietly. By the looks of it, he had been hit and the wound would most likely be fatal, and fatal means…

Wally shook his head and moved over to the figure. As he approached, he saw it was someone wearing a grey uniform, obviously meaning he was a German, but when Wally reached him and lifted up his helmet, his jaw dropped, all colour faded from his face and disbelief flooded him as if he had been struck by a wave.

"F-Franz!" Wally said weakly. He shook his head, trying to believe this was not him! It could not be! It could not be!

Franz groaned and looked up at Wally, his eyes starting to flicker. "V –Vally," he said weakly.

"Franz," Wally placed a hand on his chest and opened up his army coat to see a bullet hole in his tunic, directly where his heart is. It _was _a fatal wound. "My God! Franz, I'm…I'm so….I'm so sorry! I-I didn't know! I was j-just so scared!"

Franz grabbed Wally's hand and clutched it tightly. "No…y-you've…you've f-f-freed….m-me!" he gasped. He could feel his strength fading from him, but even though he was close to death, he smiled weakly at Wally. "T-thank y-you!" he said.

Then, with a final breath, his head thudded to the ground, his eyes closed and his hand released itself from Wally's and fell onto his stomach. He was gone.

Wally just sat there, overcome with shock. He shook his head, still unable to believe that this had happened. It had to be a bad dream or something! It just had to be! But he knew it was not and what he had done had and would really affect him. Something he had never thought he would have to do in his entire life.

For the first time, he had killed someone! It made him feel sick to his stomach and he felt like he would throw up.

It was only a split second, but it would be something that would replay itself to him over and over again for the rest of his life. It would be with him from now on, right up until the day he died.

After a moment, Wally looked into Franz's coat pocket to see a small crumbled piece of paper in there. He took it out and opened it up. There was German written across it and, him knowing German instantly recognized it to be a letter, one that Franz would never get to send for his part in the war was all but over now.

Wally put the letter in his coat pocket and picked up his rifle and crawled over to the side of the shell hole and poked his head up to see if the way was clear to the British trenches. It was. He took one last look down at Franz's body and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Franz," he said, trying to hold back a few tears. "Thank you for what you've done for me,"

Then, with one final check to see if the way to the British trenches was clear, Wally got up and moved back towards them, keeping his head low to avoid getting shot at by the Germans.


	89. The bombardment begins

**The next day**

**June 24****th**

A light cloudy day had dawned for much of the Western Front, but it was slowly starting to break and reveal the blue sky behind it, along with the sun, which was starting to finally be able to shine It's bright rays down onto the ground far below. A light breeze was blowing through the air and the air was slowly turning war as it was nearing midday. It was a perfect day one of the British commanders had commented.

In the British trench, the soldiers were up to their usual routines, enjoying the temporary peace, talking or keeping an eye out across No Man's Land. So far, the Germans had been quiet as if they did not want to be seen in doing anything by their enemies on the other side of the wasteland that separated the two sides.

"Ah, good ta' be outside!"

From the dugout, William emerged into the trench. Behind him were Moe and Hans. Adam had left early to go to the hospital to see if anything from Wendy had arrived, as he been expecting something from her after she had sent him a letter a few days ago, and Gomer was, as usual, back at the headquarters, planning the coming attack, now only about ten days away at the most, with the leaders in this area of the front. The men in the squad he was part of were more than happy for him to be there instead of here at the trench winding them up.

"Good day, innit?" Hans said.

"Yea, it is," Moe replied. "Wonder where Wally is?" he asked himself.

He got his answer when the three looked down the trench, past two other soldiers leaning against the wall of the trench facing the raised area of mud behind the frontline trench, both of them talking to each other, to see Wally standing opposite the square shaped hole, his rifle clutched tightly in his hands and his eyes looking out across No Man's Land, not leaving it as if he was in a sort of trance.

"Is he alrigh'?" Moe asked.

"I dunno what's up with him," Hans replied. "He was a bit shaken up when he came into the dugout last night. D'you think it was the mission? I mean, only he came back,"

"It migh' 'ave been," William replied. "Less go see if he's okay,"

The three walked down the trench towards their friend, turning sideways to allow another soldier to pass them.

Wally moved his hand up his rifle and clutched down on it tighter, sighing through gritted teeth behind his closed lips and closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. Last night… It still left a terrible mark on him. He still could not get over the fact that he had, for the first time, taken the life of someone else, and not just anyone, but Franz, someone who he had befriended and respected for a long time. Now he was gone! What would his family, in fact both his and Franz's, think of him when they found out? Even if he did not tell them, eventually, they would find out. He could bring himself to bear the thought of that.

He looked down at his rifle, the top of the barrel pointed up at the sky near the side of his head. Looking at the weapon, what had happened last night when Franz had run into the shell hole replayed itself again and again in his mind like some kind of recorder. Then, he looked up in the direction of the shell hole where it had happened. Franz's body would, no doubt, still be in the hole, left to rot or be buried under the earth thrown up by the shells or be blown up into shreds by a shell. Either way, his body would be destroyed and most likely never buried as if he had been forgotten by the world and that it no longer cared what had happened to it. In a way, that had happened, only he had not been forgotten. His family still remembered him and Wally was probably the only person out on the frontline who still remembered him.

_I didn't want to do it! _he mentally said to himself. _I didn't want this!_

"You alright, Wally?" a voice said, making him jump slightly. He looked next to him to see William, Moe and Hans walk up to him.

"Oh…y-yes. I-I'm fine," he replied, trying to sound like he was.

"Are you sure?" Hans asked him. "You were awfully quiet when you came into the dugout last night from being out in No Man's Land,"

"Trust me, I'm okay," he repeated. "Really, I'm fine,"

"Was I' the mission?" Moe asked. "Was I' because Sam die'?"

Wally breathed heavily through his nose and closed his eyes, gripping the top of his rifle with all his strength and even shaking it a little.

"Look, I'm fine, okay!" he snapped. "Can you please stop talking about it?"

The others were taken aback by his sudden reaction to them. "Bloody 'ell, sorry," William said. "No need ta snap at us like tha',"

Wally sighed. "Well, It's annoying that you guys keep asking me if I'm okay when I told you all I am!" Wally replied. "Look, I'm sorry, but I really am fine, okay,"

The others looked at each other and nodded.

"Righ'," Moe said and the three turned and walked back down towards the dugout. Hans muttered something, but Wally, who had heard him, did not care. He just resumed looking back out across No Man's Land, still thinking of the act last night that had changed him. He was no longer a normal person. He had taken the life of someone else, even though he was a soldier in the army that the army Wally was part of was opposed to, but still… it had a real big effect on him even though it had been a surprise and Wally had reacted like anyone would do in his place in that kind of situation. How could he live with himself now that he had done something so horrible?

_That's something I don't think I'll be able to answer _Wally mentally said, answering his own thought.

Then…

_WHHHHOOOOSSSSSHHHH! BOOM! WHHHHOOOOOSSSHHH! BOOM!_

Wally and most of the soldiers in the trench ducked down as the shells screamed overhead, but after a second or two, they rose up and looked over at the German lines across No Man's Land to see the earth suddenly being thrown up as if hundreds, no, thousands of little bombs that had been buried under the ground were exploding one after the other. Another shell screamed overhead and crashed in No Man's Land, about ten feet from the German trenches.

"What the Hell?" a soldier near Wally asked as he stepped over to the wall and stared wide-eyed at the German trenches, watching the barrage smash down on the German lines. "What the Hell is going on?" he asked.

"Tha's the barrage," a voice answered and everyone in the vicinity of the trench turned to see a tall officer of about thirty five years old with a small brown moustache walking up the long section of trench towards the frontline trench.

"The barrage?" one of the soldiers asked and the officer nodded.

"Yep," he replied. "This barrage'll smash the 'uns' lines and then we'll take 'em when Iss over," he explained.

"How long's this going on for?" another soldier asked.

"Abou' five days," the officer answered. "An', as I've said, when Iss over, we kick out the 'uns and take their trenches and march onta Berlin! B'fore ya know it, the war'll be over,"

Wally looked back out across No Man's Land, however, the happy sense of feeling that the war was coming to an end had all but left him. Now that he was seeing the barrage that would be used to smash the German lines, he began to really…emotionless about it, but he did start to feel a bit concerned. What would befall them when the barrage was over? Victory, no doubt; but what about when they saw what was left of the Germans in their lines. It would be terrible, unimaginable even.

And in five days, it would all begin.


	90. Is it that bad?

**Five days later**

**June 29****th**

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOOMMMM!_

Now mixed in with the chorus of the barrage onto the German lines was the rumble of thunder in the distance, though both sounded so similar, the only you could tell when there was thunder when the occasional flash of lighting lit up the air for a millisecond before fading into the night sky in an instant. No wind was blowing through the air but what was in the night sky, in fact falling from the clouds that hung in it, was a downpour of heavy rain that was soaking the men in the trenches on either side of the front and turning the mud out in No Man's Land to a slippery sludge, and it showed no sign of letting up.

Several miles behind the line at an army HQ, another large mansion-like building, of the British forces in the Somme sector, General Rawlinson and another army commander stood at the top of the stone steps, looking up at the clouds that hung in the sky with the rain falling heavily from them.

"Just our bloody luck!" Rawlinson sighed in annoyance. "It's been hours and this bloody storm has barely lifted!"

"Well, weather forecasts have said it should be over by morning, sir," the other army commander said.

"And we'll have to bloody well wait until the ground dries before we can continue!" Rawlinson snapped. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face, pushing against it as if trying to force his hand into his head. "We spend months planning and just when it seems like the war will end early, something's always there to bugger it up!" he said.

"Look on the bright side, sir," the army commander said, drawing a look from Rawlinson as if to say _"What bright side?" _"Maybe if we postpone the attack and continue firing the barrage at the German lines for another two days, then when we attack, the defences will be more destroyed, y'know just in case this five day bombardment hasn't destroyed all of the German defences,"

Rawlinson sighed and looked out across the field in the direction of the frontline. Maybe it was good idea, but he, like everyone else, wanted all this to be finished. Already the war had gone on long enough! It had to end, this year if possible to prevent any more deaths.

After another moment, he sighed again. "Yes, I think your right," he said. "Send the order; the attack is postponed for forty eight hours. The new date for the offensive to begin will be July 1st, same time on that day for the attack to begin,"

The army commander nodded. "Yes, sir," and he walked back into the manor house through the large open brown doors. Rawlinson sighed again and looked out across the field in the direction of the frontline.

"This has to end this year," he muttered to himself. "Or the war will destroy more than we bargained for,"

**Twenty minutes later**

**British frontline trench, west of Thiepval**

The soldiers in the trenches had taken cover in their dugouts or in the square shaped holes in the walls of the trenches, knowing that there was barely any chance of the bombardment, which was firing all the way from the top of the British lines in the Somme sector all the way down to the River Somme, alongside the small French sector of the Somme, at the German lines, allowing any Germans to launch an attack. For probably the first and longest time in a while, the men on the front, at least on the Allied side, could sleep easily without the fear of a German infantry attack against them.

In the dugout, Adam, Hans and Moe were sitting at the table, playing a game of cards, their faces set with concentration on how they were going to beat the others. Then, with a growl, Moe slammed his hand down onto the table, revealing all his cards to be two pairs of fours.

"God's sake!" he hissed. "No' again!"

"No luck?" Hans asked smugly.

"No," Moe replied. "I've bloody los' again!" he hit the table with his fist, annoyed that he had lost another card game between them.

"Ssssshhh!" Adam hissed. "You'll wake up Wally,"

Behind the three, Wally lay on his bed, sound asleep on his side facing the wall. He stirred a little as he shifted on the bed but snoozed on, breathing softly through his nose. He had been asleep for a while as he had been out for most of the day helping in the unloading of ammunition crates being delivered for the hosts of men waiting behind the front for the coming attack. His uniform was a little crimpled as he had been unloading in the pouring rain but at least the attack was not being launched today, again because of the weather, though he had not been looking forward to when it would come, which was likely to be very soon.

"Alright, another game?" Adam inquired.

"Yea, alrigh', I'll play another one," Moe said.

"Same 'ere," Hans said.

Adam took all the cards and was just starting to lay them out when the sound of footsteps outside on the wooden boards of the trench floor filled the dugout, though they were partially blocked out by the noise of the thunder and the guns overhead, and a young looking soldier appeared in the doorway to the dugout.

"'Ey, lads, c'mon," he said. "We got word there' some kinda message goin' round," he told them.

"What about?" Adam asked.

"Summin' about tomorra'," the soldier replied. "Well, c'mon, we be'er 'urry up or they'll blow a fuse,"

The three stood up and grabbed their coats from their beds and put them on and walked towards the dugout entrance. As Moe and Hans left, the soldier suddenly noticed Wally.

"What abou' 'im?" the soldier asked Adam, who turned his head to look at the sleeping figure.

"Oh…uh, he's not feelin' a hundred percent," he replied. "Don't worry, we'll tell him when we get back,"

"Oh, alrigh' then," was the soldier's reply and the two walked out of the dugout into the trench, the rain thundering down hard onto them as they walked off into the darkness, only slightly being revealed when they passed near a light emanating from an empty hole in the side of the trench or from a dugout.

When they had gone, Wally slowly turned over, keeping still for a moment just in case they suddenly came back, before he reached under his bed and took out his backpack and got up and walked over to the table, sitting down on one of the crates around it. He opened his backpack and began rifling through it until he found the crumpled piece of paper and took it out, opening it up and laying it down on the table.

He sighed as he read the letter. It still pained him to know that he had killed Franz just six days ago now, his body probably having been buried by the mud caused by the rain and any stray shells. What was his family thinking now if they had heard of his death, which was most likely to have happened by now? They were, no doubt, probably really upset, heartbroken even now that someone who they had loved and cared for was no longer coming from home from this war that he was no longer going to grow old and be there for them

All because of _him_.

Wally clutched down on the letter tightly for a moment, his hand shaking slightly as he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind, but found it hard to do so. It was not fair! Franz had not needed to die! They were all innocent victims of this war that seemed to show no signs of ending. Would it ever end? If it was to go on forever, or not forever then for however much longer; how many more lives would need to die needless deaths before this fighting was finally resolved? It should have been resolved a long time ago when it began and none of this would be happening.

_Why couldn't they have just stopped it then and there? _Wally asked himself for probably the hundredth time since Franz had died and for an untold time since he had come here. _What was stopping them?_

What had been stopping them? All of the major countries could have easily resolved all of this years ago, why did they have to resort to this to solve something that had happened from a murder in Sarajevo? It was just completely stupid and an absolute needless destruction and torture of Human life.

Wally was so caught up in the letter that he did not hear the footsteps outside approaching the dugout.

For one moment, Wally continued to read the latter, but when he heard the footsteps enter the dugout, he looked up to see Gomer standing at the entrance to the dugout, his uniform and hat wet, obviously telling him that he had walked through the rain from the HQ to the trench. He was staring at him with a mixture of confusion and anger on his face.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

"I-I…" Wally stammered.

"What's that you've got?" Gomer asked, taking a step towards him.

Wally looked down at the letter and quickly folded it up. "Uh…It's-It's nothing!" he said quickly, trying to hide it, but he was not quick enough.

Gomer stormed over and grabbed Wally's hand with the letter, holding it in place whilst he snatched the letter away with his other hand and opened it up. At once, as soon as his eyes laid onto the German writing on the paper, a look of fury etched across his face. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed at it and his face began to go red to the colour of beetroot. He looked up at Wally.

"Where did you get this?" he whispered dangerously through gritted teeth.

Wally did not reply, he just stared at him with wide-eyes, unable to talk and afraid to do so. In fact, could he even tell Gomer that he had gotten it from a dead German who had been his friend?

Gomer seemed to have sensed what Wally was thinking because at once, his anger exploded inside him like a bomb.

"You bastard!" he shouted. "You got it from a German, didn't ya!" he advanced towards Wally, stopping in front of him. He leaned his face in towards his. "What's the matter, he ya mate?" he asked mockingly. Wally still did not reply, which would have been hard for anyone to do if someone had advanced and shouted at them like this. "Well, if he was your mate, then this is what he and his family deserve!"

With one quick move of his hands, he tore the letter in two. Wally felt his heart break when he saw that as if something was ripping it in two, but Gomer did not stop there. He tore the letter into fours, then sixes, then eights and screwed up the remains of the paper, crushing them and scrunching them up hard between his hands. Then, he walked over to the dugout entrance and threw them out into the trench, where they quickly became pushed down into the gaps between the wooden boards that made up the trench floor.

He stormed back over to Wally and leaned in close to him. "You best watch yourself, Wallace!" he hissed. "You're lucky the offensive is near, or you'll find yaself in front of a firing squad!" and with that, he walked over to his bunk bed and sat down on it and took off his coat and began to shake it dry.

Wally just sat on the crate, staring at Gomer and then at the dugout entrance with disbelief in his eyes. He could not believe Gomer had just done that! That was so unnecessary, but he would not care! As long as he held his position he would think he owned everyone. However, if there was one thing that really shocked Wally, it was what he said to him. _"You best watch yourself, Wallace, or you'll find yaself in front of a firing squad!" _Was it really that bad to write to the family of someone who was on the opposite side of your army? Was it really that bad?

Footsteps came from outside again and Moe and Hans walked into the dugout with Adam coming in last. He looked up and saw Wally.

"Oh, you're awake," he said. "You alright?" he asked him.

Wally only nodded slightly. "Yes. I'm fine," he said. "Where did you go?" he asked.

"Got called out for news on the offensive," Adam told him, stepping over to his bed and taking off his coat, shaking it dry. "They said the rain'll pass by some point tonight but the offensive'll be postponed for about forty eight hours until the ground hardens,"

"Oh, okay," Wally replied lowly, getting up and grabbing his backpack and dropping it under his bed.

"You sure you're okay, Wally?" Adam asked, concerned.

Wally nodded at him. "I'm fine. Really," he insisted and he got back onto his bed and laid down on his side facing the wall.

Adam was not so sure. He looked over at Gomer, who's gaze looked up slightly to meet his for about a millisecond before they went back to drying his coat.

_I bet he had done something_ Adam thought as he sat down on his bed and placed his coat on the end of it.


	91. The last night

**The next day**

**June 30****th**

Another clear night had descended over the Somme sector of the Western Front. Stars shined brightly in the sky like thousands of tiny balls of light in the ever stretching blackness that dominated the sky. No clouds had been in the sky for the whole day and the night seemed to continue that. It looked really peaceful, but below on the German side of No Man's Land…

_WHOOOOOOSSSSHHHH! BOOM! WHOOOOOOOOSSSSSHH! BOOM!_

…the shells were continuing to fall onto their lines. The earth was thrown up into the air much like when a gofer would emerge from underground into the daylight. The German trenches had been dotted with holes from where the shells had fallen, some being where machine gun nests had been stationed.

For six days and nights, the bombardment from the British had been smashing the German lines in order to completely soften them up so the British soldiers could advance with ease and take the trenches. Even though the time it had been going on for was short, for the soldiers, especially the Germans, it seemed like forever. And it was hard to imagine that even though the feeling that it would continue on, as if it were eternal punishment filled the minds of the men in the trenches, filled their minds like water in a tank, tomorrow was when it would stop and the offensive that had been planned to be launched two days earlier, that had been planned to smash through the German lines and put an end to the war would begin.

July 1st, 1916, was to a historical day for both the Allied armies and the German army for it would mark the end of the Great War that had been raging for two long years and cost the lives of thousands on both sides.

In the dugout in the British trench, the squad sat around the table, the light bulb dangling just a few feet above them. On the table were a set of photographs which each was showing the other. Gomer, as usual, was absent from the group, up at the HQ, going over the last few plans for when the offensive would begin tomorrow so the group knew they were going to have to try and enjoy the time without him there whilst they had it.

Moe chuckled as he looked at a picture of Wendy. "You're a lucky man, Adam," he said as he gazed at the photograph of her, the same that Adam had shown her when Wally knew about him and Wendy being together. "She's pretty,"

"Yeah, she is," he replied. He took the photograph from Moe and looked down at it. "I wish I could see her again,"

"Don' worry, ya will," Hans told him. "The offensive's tomorrow so the war'll be over in a few months,"

Adam nodded slightly and a small smile came upon his face. "Yes. Maybe your right,"

"Wow, can' believe I'm seein ya brother for the firs' time, Wally," Moe said.

The others looked at him to see him holding a photograph of Wally, Hal and their mother and father on a stone wall with the field near where they lived in the background. Hans and Adam moved over and looked at the photograph. It was the same Wally had first seen when he got the book from the book he had gotten in a parcel sent from home last Christmas.

"Wow," Hans said. "You look a lot younger there, Wally,"

"It was taken a while before the war began," he explained. "Life seemed so much more peaceful and calm back then when we were all at home,"

"Ah, home!" Moe said. He sighed happily. "I can' even begin ta' imagine home right now, bu' I'll be glad when this is over,"

"Yeah…It'll…well, It'll just differen' won' it," Hans replied. "I mean, we've been 'ere for…two years and…and now we can go home, after abou' another month or so,"

"Back our families and our homes and lovers," Adam piped up. He sighed and daydreamed of when they he would finally return home to see Wendy, the love of his life. Moe and Hans felt the same way of when they would return back to their homes, finally free of all this death and destruction and constant fighting. They could finally forget about it when they went home.

Wally, however, was not as…well, enthusiastic about it. He took the photograph from Moe, who had set it back down on the table and looked at it as if he was reliving that very day all over again. It had been a peaceful one, one of the few he could remember before the war began. B-but now…now he was going home again and…and he just was not very jovial or eager about it as everyone else was. Even though this was coming from him…he could not figure out why he was thinking something like that?

"Are ya okay, Wally?" Moe asked him.

Wally snapped out of his trance and looked up at them. "Oh, yes…yes, sorry," he said.

"What's wrong?" Hans asked.

"Nothing," Wally replied, shaking his head to prove his point. "I'm okay," he insisted.

The others did not look as convinced, but said nothing more. Wally put the photograph of him and his family back into his chest pocket.

"Well…" Adam said, looking out through the dugout entrance into the direction of the German trenches. "Tomorrow's the day we end it all," he said. "The countdown to the end of the war begins tomorrow,"

"And the countdown to when we can finally go home," Hans added as he, Moe and Wally looked out through the dugout entrance in the direction of the German lines.

**Meanwhile, on the other side of No Man's Land, in the German trenches**

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

On the other side of No Man's Land, the German trenches continued to suffer under the enormous barrage of the relentless barrage by the British artillery. Large shells holes dotted No man's Land and the trenches, machine gun nests had been blown apart and some parts of the trenches had been blown apart with the wooden floorboards and boards for the walls were scattered up and down the trench, torn and broken like splinters. It looked as though the barrage was very effective indeed.

Below ground, about twenty feet below the trench floor, was the interior of a large German dugout. The German dugout was two large square shaped rooms with bunk beds lined up along the sides, about ten bunk beds to each room, with several pegs along the left wall of the dugout with coats and helmets resting on them. Rifles with straps hung from the end banisters of the beds, many of which had small cabinets next to. In the middle of each of the two square shaped rooms was a large wooden table with small crates placed underneath them. Between the two square shaped dugouts was a small flight of steps that led up to the trench.

Several soldiers and officers were asleep or in groups talking to each other, showing other photographs or smoking cigarettes or were lying on their beds on their own reading letters or just staring up at the ceiling as if they were in a trance. Every so often a small cloud of dust would fall from the wooden boarded ceiling as the shells crashed outside. At first glance to new soldiers, there would be fear that the roof would collapse but to experienced soldiers, including some of the Germans here, they knew they would be safe.

The German dugouts, being far underground and built for It's men in defence of their frontline, were a lot more comfortable and constructed than British dugouts. The men here knew they would be defending more rather than attacking like the British and the French were doing so life here was just that little bit more comfortable.

In one of the large rooms, a German soldier sat on one of the crates at the table, a small oil lamp glowing next to him as he read a letter he had written earlier today to be sent to his wife and child back home in Aachen, where he had been a baker before the war. The noise of the shells crashing in the trench echoed down the stairs much like a noise would when in a dark and quiet tunnel and into the dugouts as if it were sweeping away all other noise in the vicinity, but the men barely noticed it. Then again, after living with this for the past six days and nights and not going mad, who would not be able to not bear it?

The German sitting at the table was a medium height man, about 5ft 11 with short brown hair and green eyes and a small moustache growing between his nose and lips with a small beard around his chin. His body was thin but broad. His name was Heinrich Becker. He was about twenty nine years old and had been at the front for about fifteen months now, a long time to many of the other soldiers here. His uniform was baggy and faded in colour in some places and with small splotches of dirt dotted about it but that was pretty much the same with all the uniforms of the German soldiers here. Then again, it was the same on both sides of the front so despite the Germans having better dugouts and trenches than the Allies, they were no different in uniforms, or feeling in this war for that matter, at least mostly.

Heinrich read the letter he had written again for the hundredth time today, a wanting voice in his head saying he should send it now, but it was dangerous because of the shellfire outside. Already one man had died just trying to get to another dugout about thirty feet down the trench to the right from this one. It was not worth the risk, even though he desperately thought it should be.

(Note: The italics from this point on until the end of the chapter are German)

_Dear Eva and my child, Peter_

_I hope you get this letter so that you will know I am alive and unhurt. Oh, how I dearly miss you both and how I wish I could hold you both in my arms again like I had done before the war. _

_The British bombardment of our lines has been continuing for six days and nights now and it shows no sign of relenting. I fear this is the prelude to a large scale British attack, though when the bombardment will end tonight or tomorrow or next week, I or no one else can tell. I can only pray that when the attack finally comes, I shall live to see your happy faces again._

_Tell Peter that he must be good and grow up and work hard to look after his mother and also tell him I will see him again when he is starting school. I pray for both of you tonight and I hope you are getting on okay in life without me there._

_I promise you, my wife. I shall see you again. When the attack is over, I shall return home and I shall hold you both in my arms again. Look after yourselves and I will see you soon._

_Your husband, Heinrich._

Reading the letter made Heinrich sigh. Oh, how he wished he could go home back to his family to see them, even if it was just for a moment or an hour, it would please him beyond imagination. He wanted to go back and see them but as long as the war continued, that would not happen. Like almost everyone here, he would have to wait until one side in this war was defeated or the two sides came to negotiate a ceasefire, but when, or even _if _that would happen, no one knew.

_"Goodnight my soldiers," _a voice said from the other dugout and Heinrich, along with several other men nearby at the bunk bed behind Heinrich who were talking with each other, to see an officer, a tall heavily built man with black hair, blue eyes and an aftershave on his face, walk into the dugout.

_"Officer Frederick," _Heinrich greeted, giving a salute.

_"Heinrich," _Frederick replied, returning the salute.

He walked into the dugout and sat down on one of the crates opposite Heinrich. The soldiers on the bunk bed behind Heinrich resumed their chatter. Frederick took off his army top to reveal his white vest underneath. He threw the top onto the lower bunk bed behind him. As he did, a small rumble shook the ceiling above him and a small cloud of dust fell onto him. Frederick coughed and swore under his breath.

_"Damn bombardment!"_ he growled. _"I wish it would end already!"_

He ran his hands hard through his hair and shook the dust off it. When he was done, he looked up to see Heinrich's eyes going over the letter once again.

_"Is that your letter to your wife?" _he asked.

Heinrich looked up at Frederick and nodded. _"Yes, sir," _he replied. _"Oh, I wish I could see them again," _he sighed and laid the letter on the table. _"I cannot wait for much longer for this war to end," _he said. _"I just want it to be over,"_

_"Don't we all,"_ Frederick replied. _"Don't we all," _he repeated.

Silence fell between the two for a moment, pierced only by the talking of the soldiers behind Heinrich and the occasional rumble of the shells landing above them, making more dust fall from the ceiling above.

"_Do you ever wonder if you will see your family again, sir?" _Heinrich asked Frederick, who looked up at him.

A pause. _"I-I do now know," _Frederick replied. _"I only believe what fate has to offer us," _he got up and used his foot to move the crate he had been sitting on back under the table. _"I'm going to get some sleep. I have heard the British offensive is near so we must be prepared,"_

Heinrich nodded. _"Yes, sir," _

Frederick walked back over to his bed and took off his army boots and placed them down on the floor next to his lower bunk. As he went to sit down, the soldier on the bunk above his moved over to the side. He was a young German, about eighteen, with short black hair, green eyes and was small, only about 5ft 6 with a rail thin body. His name was Stammler, a young farm boy from the southern German region Bavaria.

_"Good night, sir," _he said.

Frederick looked up at Stammler and smiled and nodded. _"Goodnight, Stammler," _he replied.

Stammler nodded and rolled back over onto his back on his bed. As Frederick sat down on his bed, Heinrich looked over at Frederick.

_"Sir?" _he said. Frederick looked over at him. _"Have you heard our Westphalian battle cry?" _he asked. Frederick shook his head intently. _"Give 'em beans," _

Frederick smirked and laid down in his bed, his head resting on the pillow and within moments, despite the noise of the shells crashing overhead, he was asleep.

Heinrich sighed and looked down at the letter once more, the piece of paper slightly illuminated by the glow of the oil lamp.

_If the offensive comes tomorrow _he thought. _Then we will be in Hell_

After another moment, he folded up the paper and got up and walked over to his bed, took off his boots and laid down on it, quickly falling asleep, thinking of what tomorrow would bring.


	92. The Big Push

**The next day**

**July 1****st****, 1916**

The day for the offensive was sunny and a mostly clear blue sky with some scattered clouds hovering about. A gentle summer breeze was blowing through the air. It was peaceful, but the natural landscape here would have to enjoy it whilst it lasted as today was the day when the British offensive began, the day when the Allied armies would smash right through the German lines after the week long bombardment and march on to Germany and end the war.

The plan for the attack was much like all those that had been launched before. The Allied armies were to take the forward frontline German trenches and drive back the German army. In some places, the British and French armies were to capture strategic villages and any ground that may be of use in further attack or defence behind or around the villages. Then, they would move on and continue pushing back the Germans until they broke through their frontlines and caused the entire German side of the Western Front to flee, thus ending the war. The entire offensive was to last a few weeks, maybe a month or maybe even a little longer than that but it was to be over by the time summer had finished and both sides would be on their way home to recover from the war.

"C'mon, Wally, we have to be ready,"

"One moment,"

In the British trench to the west of Thiepval, Wally, who had his back pack on and his rifle in his hands, walked back into the dugout, having just about exited it when he had forgotten something and went back into to get it.

He walked across the dugout towards his bed and knelt down when he reached it and, putting his rifle in his other hand, reached under his pillow and took out a small folded up piece of paper and looked at it. He smiled at it. This was the very same card he had gotten from Hal last year. He laughed a little to himself when he remembered that it Hal's birthday, which his brother had written down in the card, and realised himself that it was his birthday a few days before he got the letter. Luckily, this year he had remembered.

_Nineteen years old! _Wally mentally exclaimed. _Feels like I should be a hundred years older!_

"Eh, Wally!" Moe's voice called from outside in the trench. "C'mon, quick! Officers are comin',"

Wally quickly took off his backpack and put the letter in it and put it on his back and quickly rushed back towards the dugout entrance. He paused for a moment when he reached the entrance and looked back at the dugout. He sighed, knowing for much of his time on the Western Front this had virtually been his home where he and the others laughed and got annoyed with each other and in the area of trench where he they had watched their friends be killed or injured. In a way, it was…quite sad to leave this place and move on. Well, at least now they were coming to the end of the war and they would be going home.

Sighing again and taking one last look at the dugout, Wally turned and walked out into the trench.

To the left and right of him was an endless line of men with another large group in the long section of trench that went all the way to the rear trenches a few feet away. All of them were armed with their rifles and were standing with their backs to the wall of the trench furthest from No Man's Land. An officer, tall and was about middle aged with a small brown moustache, was walking down the trench. A few other officers were following behind them. Chatter filled Wally's ears along with the faint booming noise echoing across No Man's Land from the German trenches, where the barrage was continuing to fall.

"Though' ya go' stuck in there," Moe, who was standing next to Hans, said.

"No," Wally replied, smiling a little at his friend's joke. "Just making sure I had everything,"

"No memories ge' left behind, huh?" Hans asked jokingly.

"No," Wally replied, looking up and down the trench to see if he could see Adam coming back, but he could not.

Adam had to go somewhere else to lead a new battalion into No Man's Land when the attack began. Whether they would see him afterwards, they did not know, but Wally hoped he would live through the attack, even though there was barely any chance of real German resistance after a bombardment like this for the past week.

"Well, good luck soldiers," the leading officer further down the trench said and Wally, Moe and Hans looked down the trench to see the officer moving towards them.

As the group of officers came closer, they began to make out the faces of those behind the leading officer. First behind the leading officer was Gomer, who the three rolled their eyes at each other when they saw him, then there was an elderly officer who had a pock marked face and a small grey moustache and was about fifty. Behind him was Stanley and then there was another officer who had stopped and was talking to the soldiers near the next long section of trench that led to the rear trenches about fifteen metres down from them.

Then, the leading officer stopped near a group of soldiers who were gathered around their friend, in front of the square shaped hole, who had a small photograph in his hands.

"What's that ya got there, soldier?" the officer asked, interested.

"It's a picture of me' lover and daughter, sir," the soldier, who had a Scottish accent, replied, handing the officer the photograph.

The officer looked down at the photograph to see it had a pretty young woman in her early twenties with light hair and a small coat over her body, the bottom of a dress sticking out from underneath the bottom of it. The woman was smiling at the camera and was holding a bundle of blankets which held a small baby.

The officer chuckled. "Congratulations, laddie," he said, handing him back the photograph. "I bet you had a good time with her," he joked.

The soldiers and the officers laughed at the officer's joke. Wally smirked and glanced over in the direction of the German lines, where he saw the mounds of earth being thrown up into the air. For a moment, he felt a hint of guilt seep into him as if the barrage was his fault. Even though the Germans were the enemy of his country, he felt sorry for them having to undergo a barrage like this for an entire week, something which there was no way he or anyone he knew would have lasted long in if they had been in the Germans' position.

"Thank ya, sir," the soldier replied, drawing Wally's look again, as he put the photograph back into his chest pocket. "As a matter of fact I'm quite happy for today, besides it being the fact that we're ending the war today," he said.

"And why's that?" the officer asked.

"Well, when the war's over and we're heading home, I'm planning on bringing me lover and daughter over to France to sh-"

BOOM! A shell landed nearby in No Man's Land and exploded, throwing a mound of mud into the trench over some of the soldiers a few feet down. The men glanced at it for a moment but quickly looked back at the officer and the soldier.

"You were saying?" the officer inquired.

"Well," the soldier continued. "After the war's over, I'm planning on bringing me two girls over to France to show 'em where their old man fought to kick the Boche back to their country,"

The soldiers 'ooohed' and looked from one another. The officer chuckled.

"Well, that's it then lads," he announced to everyone in the trench. "We'll have to finish the Huns off as a present for Barnsley's two girls,"

The soldiers chuckled and began to chat amongst each other as the officers began to move down the trench. As they passed Wally, Moe and Hans, Gofer took a step towards Wally.

"And we expect _everyone _to pull their weight," he said to Wally as he passed him, adding a tone on the word 'everyone' as if expecting to Wally to start doing what a soldier should be doing on the frontline.

Wally sighed and looked back out across No Man's Land to see the mounds of earth continuing to be thrown up into the air. A sense of nervousness began to fill him. He took a deep breath to calm down but found it hard to do so as his hands around his rifle began to shake a little.

_Why am I like this? _A confident, unafraid sounding voice within his mind seemed to ask him. _This offensive will be the end of the war. I should be happy!_

_But what if there are any Germans left? _Another voice, though this one sounded more cautious, afraid even, the polar opposite of the first voice Wally had heard in his mind, asked. _What if some of them have survived?_

_None of them have survived! _the first voice insisted. _They're all gone. We won't have to kill anyone!_

_But still, what if a few Germans have survived? _the second voice asked, sounding more worried.

_"Wally?" _a third voice said, though this sounded more familiar to him. _"Wally!" _it said again, though this time it sounded more firm. "Wally!"

Wally felt a hand touch his shoulder and he jumped slightly and looked left next to him to see William standing there.

"Oh, hello, William," he said, relieved it was just a friend.

"You alrigh'?" he asked Wally, a little concerned.

Wally nodded. "Yes, sorry," Wally replied. "I was just in my own little world for a moment,"

William stifled a laugh. "Best not get like tha' when we're out in No Man's Land," he said.

"Fix bayonets!" an officer's voice barked from further up the trench.

Wally reached into the belt around his waist and took out a small sharp knife and a small bit of rope. He placed the knife on the end of his rifle and, holding the rifle in one hand and, using the fingers of that hand to keep the knife in place, tied the rope around the end of the knife. That was his bayonet. He had never used it before and he hoped he would never have to when the offensive now.

"Well…I' begins in a momen'," Moe said.

"Yeah, the end of the war is comin' close," Hans replied.

"So, everyone alright?" a voice asked and the four looked right down the trench to see Stanley walking up towards them.

"Hey, Stanley!" Hans greeted.

"G'day," he replied as he reached them. He heaved a light sigh and glanced out across No Man's Land, trying to look a little excited for the coming attack. "Well, this is it," he said. He stifled a laugh. "Can't believe the war'll soon be over,"

"Neither can we," Moe replied. "Can' wai' for all this ta end,"

"We can finally go 'ome and see our family and lovers again," William piped up.

Family. That word stung Wally like a bee sting. Would it be good for him to see his family again? Even though he would be seeing Hal again and returning back to their farm; would seeing his mother and father make him happy?

"Officers, into position!" another voice barked from up the trench.

"Right, I best get ready," Stanley said. "See ya lads," he said to the four and he walked down the trench, stopping in front of the soldiers in front of the square shaped hole, who were chatting amongst themselves.

Overhead, the noise of the shells continued to crash down on the German side of No Man's Land, the rumble of each shell filling his ears. He sighed and looked up at the sky as if he was looking at God and hoping that the offensive would be quick and over and done with so they could all go home and all of this fear would go away.

Then, as if his hopes had been answered, the rumble of the shells began to ebb away into the morning air. Wally and everyone else quickly noticed this and looked out across No Man's Land to see a most beginning to form over the German lines. The bombardment had stopped. That mean the offensive was now only minutes away.

Wally took another deep breath and swallowed hard, trying desperately to keep calm. His heart began to beat madly like a drum and slowly it was getting faster as if he was running a marathon. His hands began to shake even more now, so much so that his rifle was starting to shake as well, the bayonet tilting slightly from side to side as his hands shook.

However, Wally quickly noticed that he was not the only one who was starting to get nervous. Next to him, he saw a soldier, about seventeen, who was about his height with blonde hair and blue eyes. His teeth were chattering and he took a deep breath, which was slightly strangled as his chest began to heave in and out as if he was struggling to breathe.

"For God sake!" he cried. "Why can't we just get going!"

Wally could not help but agree with him. Why could they not just going already? This waiting was eating away at him! Why could they not just go now?

"You okay, Wally?" Hans asked as he stepped in line next to him.

Wally looked at him and tried to force a small smile onto his face. "I'm fine," he replied.

"Don' worry," Hans reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder as if he were a parent reassuring a child on something the child was nervous of. "It's jus' a short walk away. Only abou' a minute and we'll be there,"

Wally nodded slightly. "Thanks, Hans," he said.

Hans smiled at him and took his hand off his shoulder, but Wally still felt nervous. As he looked across No Man's Land at the mist hovering above the German lines, he began to feel a little sick to his stomach, even though Hans was right. I mean, it was only a short walk to the German lines, and, besides the bombardment had been pounding the German lines for the past week. It was perfectly fine.

_But Death could always be near _Wally thought to himself.

Then, the sound of a high pitched screaming-like noise filled the air, coming from both left and right, though from the right it was a little fainter. Upon hearing the noise, Wally's heart tightened.

"Alright, lads! Over we go!"

At once, the entire line of men in the trench system seemed to move forward. Wally grabbed the top of the wooden wall, his rifle in one hand, and lifted himself up out of the trench into No Man's Land. He paused to hold his rifle between his hands and, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, began to walk across No Man's Land.

To the left and the right of him, tens of soldiers were emerging from the trenches and advancing across the wasteland towards the German frontline.

This was the start of the Big Push.

**(Note: at 7:30am, along the 18 mile British front of where the Somme battle was unravel, 60,000 British soldiers of the first wave began to move out into No Man's Land. With orders to walk as if on a Sunday stroll across No Man's Land and be spaced about one metre from each other, hundreds of British soldiers were completely exposed and unaware of what was about to happen that would mark July 1****st**** 1916 as a historical day.)**

**Meanwhile, at the German trenches**

(Note: the italics are in German from this point on to the end of the chapter.)

In the dugout under the German front line, officer Frederick walked down the steps into the underground sleeping quarters of his men. Dust was falling from the ceilings above, getting in his hair and face but he did not seem to notice.

As he entered the space between the dugouts, he looked right to see that dugout empty, as it was mostly new recruits who had left as soon as the bombardment had ended. However, when he looked left, he saw Heinrich, Stammler and about eight other soldiers sitting around the table, looking ahead as if in a trance or looking down at the table as if they were waiting to be called up.

_"Oh Mein Gott,"_ he said in disbelief. Not that the men part of his squad were not getting ready to fight, but that they were just so…unmoving and quiet despite the fact that war was coming towards them.

"_Attention soldiers!" _a voice barked down from the trench at the top of the stairs.

At once, as if awoken from their trances, the men got up and rushed over to the side wall to grab their helmets and weapons.

_"This is it!" _Frederick said. _"Move! Move! Move!"_

Heinrich grabbed his helmet and slammed it onto his head and picked up his 7.92 mm Mauser Gewehr 98 rifle and placed some rifle cartridges into it. As he did this, he felt the adrenaline pump through his veins right around his body. This was it. This was the start of the British offensive they had been expecting at the end of the barrage.

"_C'mon! C'mon!" _Frederick barked.

Some of the soldiers had finished putting their cartridges into their rifles and ran out of the dugout and up the steps towards the trench. Frederick kept glancing up the steps and at the dugout, each time he glanced at the dugout another soldier would rush up towards the steps until Heinrich was left.

As he finished loading his rifle with ammunition and went to move towards the steps, he stopped and looked on his bed to see the letter to his wife lying on the covers of his bed.

_"C'mon, Heinrich!" _Frederick barked. _"Quickly!"_

Heinrich grabbed the letter, creasing it slightly in his hand, and putting it in his pocket. Frederick ran up the steps to the trench with Heinrich following behind him. When they reached the top of the steps, they emerged from the dugout into the trench.

It was completely different from when Heinrich had last seen it, which was seven days ago. Large gaping holes were scattered up and down the trench, in the walls and on the floor, with pieces of wood scattered everywhere. In some parts of the trench wall where the shells had landed the mud behind it had spilled out across the trench floor. In one the body of a German soldier lay, having ben peppered with shrapnel when a shell had landed near him, killing him instantly. Parts of the mist that were visible to the British were hovering over parts of the trench.

_"We are still alive," _Heinrich said. _"Us moles have come out of our holes,"_

_"Sie kommen!" _a nearby German soldier, in a section of the trench that came in towards the German rear trenches in the shape that was almost like half a circle, shouted. _"Sie Kommen!" They're coming!_

Heinrich ran over into the sections of the frontline trench, as did pretty much everyone else, and looked up from the trench about three meters from a machine gun nest, which had survived the bombardment, across No Man's Land. The mist was beginning to move away a little now, which made it hard for him to see these soldiers his comrade said he had seen coming.

Then, he saw them.

Materializing out of the mist was a figure. On either side of him was another figure and then another five appeared behind them. Slowly, tens of more began to appear with every second, each of them seemingly appearing to come out of the mist like ghosts. More of them were coming and, looking left and right, Heinrich could see this huge swarm of British soldiers stretching as far as the eye could see either side of him. His eyes went wide when he saw the total amount of them, but what really shocked him was that they were not running. They were…they were strolling! Literally strolling towards their lines as if they were out for a walk. It was…it was absolutely mad!

_My Gott! _Heinrich thought. _Poor bastards!_

**In the middle of No Man's Land**

"Oi! Don't start bunching back there!"

About fifteen feet in front of Wally, a group of soldiers were starting to bunch up and the officer in front of them looked over his shoulder and shouted at them for doing so. The men quickly separated from each other.

So far so good, they had advanced about half-way across No Man's Land. Still though, even though they were near the German lines, Wally felt his heart beating furiously against his chest as if it was trying to break out of him. He was scared. No, he was petrified. Even though there was safety in numbers, Wally knew that if they were to be attacked they would be slaughtered, to which he mentally hit himself over because the German lines had been virtually blown apart. There was no resistance! Why am I worrying?

_Keep calm! _he mentally said to himself. _We're almost there! We're almost there! Just another few tens of feet and we'll be there!_

**In the German trenches**

Heinrich and Stammler, who had joined him and another fifteen others in the frontline section of the trench, observed the British soldiers as they approached. Both of them were shocked to the bone to see the British coming at them, not just in numbers but because they were just…_walking _towards them. Their commanders were mad to make them do something like this!

_"My Gott, the poor Tommies," _Stammler said.

Heinrich nodded slightly. Why they were coming towards them like this, he did not know. It was completely mad! There was barely any cover that hundreds of men could use, even with the huge amount of shell holes scattered up and down No Man's Land. This just…just made this fighting pointless. They were all exposed and could easily be mown down.

The noise of ammunition jingling together filled Heinrich's ears and he looked left to see a soldier run up to the machine gun, two long belts of machine gun ammunition around his neck. He stopped at the weapon, knelt down and began loading the ammunition into the machine gun, the weapon clicking as he did so. Heinrich swallowed hard a little as he saw this, knowing what was going to happen.

A few feet further down from the machine gun nest, Frederick stood up on the side of the mound of earth in an exposed area of trench where a shell had struck it and looked through a pair of binoculars across No Man's Land at the approaching British soldiers. Heinrich and Stammler looked back out across No Man's Land, watching the British walk closer and closer toward their lines, towards what was to be their doom.

As Frederick looked through the binoculars at the British soldiers, he could make out their weapons, their uniforms and their backpacks and the many pockets on their uniforms. Even the very faces of them. Most of them had nervous looks on their faces, knowing that within the next few moments, many of these faces would be touching the dirt and mud of No Man's Land. Upon seeing them all, Frederick felt a small ping of guilt hit him, but he knew that he had to do what he had to do.

_"Range!" _Frederick shouted as he lowered the binoculars. _"Fifty feet!"_

Nearby, the two Germans on the machine gun finished loading the last of the ammunition into the weapon. The first German soldier who had been at the machine gun cocked the weapon and looked up at Frederick.

"_Fertig!" _he said. _Ready!_

Frederick nodded and looked back out across No Man's Land once more before the scene of approaching British soldiers was to change. They were in range. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to give the order that would mark the start of a barrage.

Not taking his eyes off the approaching British, he raised his arm slightly and held it in mid-air. Heinrich and Stammler, along with pretty much everyone else in the trench, watched him, waiting for when he would lower his arm quickly and sharply and mark the beginning of what was to happen. The second ticked by and the British came closer and closer.

Then, Frederick brought down his arm and, in complete clear English, shouted:

"FIRE!"

Near the front of the wave of British soldiers, Wally began to ease his breathing. They were just under half-way from the German frontline and had met no resistance. He smiled a little. Yes! Maybe he had been exaggerating. Maybe they would be okay and that the German lines had been destro-

ZIP! ZIP! ZIP!

Suddenly, the air moved as three bullets shot past him. Wally gasped, his mind suddenly shaken with what had just happened.

Then, the head of a soldier, about twenty feet in front of him, jerked backwards, revealing his wide-eyes to Wally as if he was looking back at him and a small hole in the middle of his forehead, before the soldier slumped forward onto his knees and onto the ground. He did not rise again.

"Oh my God!" Wally whispered under his breath.

"GO!" the officer at the head of the wave screamed before another two bullets struck him in the chest. The officer halted where his was, slamming his hands on his chest, before he fell sideways to the ground, now lost in the eternal sleep from which he would no longer awaken from.

Suddenly, the air seemed to be shifting all around Wally as he looked left, right, in front and behind him to see the soldiers one-by-one scream and fall to the ground. Some cried out as they hit the ground and began shifting about on their sides as the pain from the bullets overwhelmed them like a wave striking the shore on a beach. Some of those who had fallen to the ground and were still alive were then hit by stray bullets, which cease their cries of pain for good, along with their lives.

Wally began frantically looking around for cover as another bullet zipped past him and struck another soldier in the head, killing him instantly. Where was he to go? Where was he to go?

Then, his eyes rested on a shell hole about ten feet in front of him. Keeping low, he rushed towards it and slid down the side of it to the bottom. As he stopped at the bottom of the shell hole, the bodies of two more soldiers fell down beside him, both of them having been killed as they tried to find cover. His eyes went wide with fright when he saw them and tried to mutter something but the words got lost in his mouth.

Breathing in and closing his eyes tightly, he moved away from the bodies of the soldiers to the other side of the shell hole. He stopped and looked down at the ground below him, his eyes wide, adrenaline pumping through his body like oil being pumped through a machine and his breathing heavy. This Big Push! It was…no, it had failed. It was not turning into an easy offensive; it was turning into a massacre!

"You down there!" a voice barked from above.

Wally looked up from the shell hole and saw Gomer standing at the top of the shell hole, glaring down at him. His teeth clenched and his fist, the other holding a pistol, curled into a fist.

"Wallace!" he barked. Wally just stared up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. He reached down into the shell hole and grabbed Wally by the back of the neck. "C'mon, you berk! Get up!" he growled, pulling him up out of the shell hole and pushing him ahead of him. "Get moving!" he ordered.

Wally had no choice but to obey. He marched on towards the German lines. In front of him were only about seven other soldiers, one of who was hit in the head and fell down to the ground, dead. As Wally looked down at the ground, he saw the bodies of tens of comrades, almost all of them lying dead in the mud, some in shell holes. A few of them were moving, but it was hopeless for them.

Then, a scream from his left filled his ears and he looked to see James collapse to the ground, one hand slamming around his side from where a bullet had struck it.

At once, before he even knew it, Wally found himself rushing towards him. Gomer shouted out something but he did not hear him. He had to help James or he would die! Behind him, however, Gomer had reached his breaking point with how long he could stand Wally. He aimed his pistol at him. He was easily within range.

"Goodbye, you cowardly berk!" he said, placing his finger on the trigger and pressing down.

A scream filled the air and Wally shot round to see Gomer drop his pistol and lean onto his right side, his hand clasped around his side as a bullet struck him. A mixed look of pain and anger etched across his face and he half-turned to face the German trenches. As he did so, another bullet struck him in the forehead, throwing it backwards. He held this position for a moment as if he had been frozen in time before he forward onto the ground.

His part in the war was over.

Wally sighed and turned to run towards James, but was suddenly stopped by a hand that grabbed the back of his neck. He turned to see Stanley with his hand on the back of his neck

"What are you doing, you idiot?" he said.

"I-I-I have to save my f-friend!" Wally stuttered nervously.

Stanley threw Wally out in front of him towards the German lines. "You'll have to leave him Wally!" he said. "The stretcher bearers'll get 'im! Now keep moving!"

Wally, steeping backwards, looked at Stanley and James and back again, about once or twice, before he sighed and turned to stroll on towards the German trenches. Behind him, he heard Stanley shout: "C'mon, keep moving!" He looked left and right and behind him to see that the file was mostly empty. There was nowhere near as many soldiers left than when had emerged out from their trenches to attack the Germans. He could not see Hans or Moe. Worry began to fill him. Had they been killed?

Sighing, he looked ahead, seeing only about three other soldiers scattered about in front of him, and walked on towards the German lines.

**At the German trenches**

Lying down on their stomachs, Heinrich, Stammler and the fifteen other soldiers in the section of trench fired from their rifles at the now severely diminished British soldiers. Heinrich fired at a British soldier and he fell from sight. He cocked his weapon and looked left and right for another target.

"_Give 'em beans!" _he shouted.

On his left next to him, a soldier chuckled slightly as he loaded another cartridge into his rifle. _"It's like shooting pigeons!" _he laughed and he resumed firing on the British forces, who continued to march towards them despite being almost completely wiped out.

Heinrich looked to his right at Stammler, who cocked his weapon after firing another shot.

_"How many have you killed, Stammler?" _Heinrich asked.

Stammler held up four fingers. _"Four," _he replied.

"_Four, well done!" _Heinrich congratulated his young comrade and looked back out across No Man's Land. He was pleased with Stammler. Before the war he had been a farmer in the Bavarian countryside, but here on the frontline, he was his best rifleman, having gained his skill through hunting and practising shooting with an old rifle of his father's back home. Now, all that practise was paying off by taking the lives of other men.

As Heinrich scanned the field, he caught sight of a young British soldier with brown hair. Raising his rifle, he aimed at the soldier and placed his finger on the trigger of his weapon.

_"Goodbye Englander," _he muttered under his breath and fired and the British soldier fell from sight.


	93. The red sunset

**Later that day**

**Somewhere behind the line  
**

In the blue sky of the first day of July, the sun began to set, though this time, it was a red sun. It is said that when a sun rises or sets red, blood has been spilled. On the Somme, that theory or saying had become a reality for the amount of men on both the Allied and German sides who had died today.

In the HQ behind the British frontline, a sense of frustration and confusion hung in the air like a cloud. All morning since the attack had begun; reports of massacre along the entire British front had been coming in and still were. Everyone had been rushing around and was trying to work out completely what exactly was going on at the frontline, though word had already reached many of the total loss of men.

In one of the corridors of the HQ, general Rawlinson walked down the corridor towards the map room, his hard soled army boots banging hard as they hit the floor with every step. His face was tight lipped and full of frustration. All morning, he had heard nothing but massacre and the failure of attacks. The entire attack, as he had read the reports coming in from the front, was going downhill, fast. But still, he had ordered his officers to keep to the plans he had already laid out, stating they would eventually work, but a voice inside him was telling him they were not and he was sending thousands to their deaths.

Rawlinson threw open the door to the map room and walked over to the table in which the large map of the Somme sector was laid across with small a few officers gathered around the table, one of who was drawing a few large circles over the small dots on the German side, which were villages. To the right of the table were three other men sitting behind a desk, receiving phone calls and going over reports of the fighting from the frontline.

"Give me the reports on the Thiepval sector," he said.

One of the officers handed Rawlinson a small piece of paper and he read over it. "Frontal attack fails twice! Heavy casualties!" he slammed his hand with the piece of paper down onto the table. "I bloody know that, I was there!" he sighed and looked down at the map. "What of our work in the south near the French?" he asked, hoping there was going to be at least some good coming out of all this.

Another officer handed him another piece of paper and he read it over. His face lit up a little as he read the report on the paper. He looked up, a look of confidence on his face.

"Gentlemen," he said. "Our forces have broken through the German line in the south,"

The officers looked at each, small gimmers of hope in their eyes. Could their attack be working after all?

**(Note: Although the report on the breakthrough was correct, it had only been a small breakthrough with heavy casualties suffered by the British army, who had only taken part of the frontline trenches at Mamentz, the place of where the breakthrough had occurred. It was one of the few success achieved by the British that day.)**

**Meanwhile, at the Schwaben Redoubt**

The Schwaben Redoubt was a small stretch of high ground to the north of Thiepval, a key position in the German lines from which artillery could be directed onto the British lines and was also a perfect springboard for a flanking attack on Thiepval. It was dotted with a small trench system and was easily defendable as it was the Germans had control of the high ground.

However, earlier on in the day, the British had been able to break into the Schwaben Redoubt and had driven out or killed most of the German soldiers there. Now a success in taking Thiepval was a real possibility.

Near the top of the Schwaben Redoubt, a new group of British soldiers had arrived to strengthen their hold on the hill. Among them was Wally. He had been lucky to survive so far, especially when a German had fired on him and he had, at the same time, dived into a shell hole, only just narrowly missing being killed. Afterwards, he had crawled back towards the British lines and been put into part of a squad and was sent to the Redoubt.

However, he had nothing to prepare him for what he was to see.

The group of ten soldiers walked across the top of the high ground, which was dotted with shell holes and the bodies of many fallen British soldiers, which almost the whole British sector of the Somme front looked like now. However, here it was much different because there was something else here in which did differ the Redoubt from much of the rest of the British front.

As the squad made their way across the Redoubt, Wally began to notice what it was here that was different. In some of the trenches to the right of him were the bodies of fallen Germans. Though, one thing that was very different about them was that, unlike all of the other fallen Germans he had seen so far, they had no weapons near them. Also, for some reason, they had looks of terror on their faces. They last emotion they had ever felt. He stared wide-eyed at them, his mind blank with no other emotion apart from pure shock. This was horrible!

Then, as Wally approached a large trench near the centre of the hill, he heard shouting coming from it and a few helmets were moving about. As he got closer, he heard one shoulder shout: "Stick the bastard!" and a yell followed. What was going on?

"Oi, you lot! Get in 'ere!" a voice shouted from the trench. Wally and the soldiers looked to see Stanley storming down the trench towards them His face was red with anger, as were his eyes. His hair, even under his cap, was messy and his fists were clenched tightly, so much so that they looked like they were going to break if he squeezed them together any harder. He looked like some escaped maniac. "C'mon! Get in the trench!"

The soldiers obeyed, quickly getting into the trench, not daring to go against the orders of their officer. Wally joined them and watched Stanley bark something at them with fury. He looked down the trench behind him to see a few more German soldiers lying dead on the trench floor, all of them with terrified expressions on their faces.

"Wally!" he heard Stanley growl. He looked round and saw the officer walking towards him. He gulped and backed away slightly as if he was expecting Stanley to suddenly attack him. Thankfully, though, he stopped a few feet in front of Wally. "Get down there and kill 'em all!" he growled through clenched teeth.

Wally tried to stammer something but the words got lost in his mouth. He nodded slightly and walked past Stanley quickly, who stormed on past him, shouting at another few soldiers.

As he made his way down the trench system, Wally began to see helmet tops, in other sections of the trench that led off to the back of the Schwaben Redoubt (towards Germany) jerk forward and then withdraw and move on. What were they doing?

"Stick 'em, lads!" a soldier shouted.

Wally turned left into a section of trench that led off to towards the back of the Redoubt. Along both sides were several dugout entrances, most of them with wood dangling down from the top of the entrance to them or a large hole on the wall of the trench above them from where they had been struck by a shell but had not caved in from the impact. At the end of the trench was a turning that led left into another trench. Wally looked at each of the dugouts as he passed them, wondering if any Germans were still in them or they had all died or had fled. Another shout echoed across from somewhere.

Suddenly, as he reached the end of the trench, a cough from the dugout on the wall next to him caught his attention. Wally gasped in surprise and aimed his rifle at the dugout entrance, though it shook his hand as he waited for whoever was in there to emerge.

Then, he saw movement. It was a figure and it began moving from the darkness towards the entrance as if it were a monster emerging from a cave of darkness where it dwelled. Another cough emitted from the dugout and a dirt covered hand came out of the dugout and grabbed hold of the wood on the side of the entrance. Another grabbed the other side and the figure pulled himself out of the dugout into the light.

The figure was a German soldier. He was tall, about another two inches taller than Wally, with brown hair and green eyes. His grey uniform was covered in dirt, as was his face and hair and hands. His boots were worn away in some places and he walked with a bit of a stagger. He coughed and almost fell over as he stepped out of the trench. It was then his eyes fell on Wally's feet and looked up to see his scared and shocked face.

At once, the soldier broke out into a babble of German. Wally stared at him with wide-eyes as if he had never seen anyone like this before, not that he had never seen anyone like obviously but…someone who was alive after this first day of no doubt the worst fighting he had ever seen and had evaded the British soldiers… it was just shocking.

Wally stepped back a pace as the German reached to him, speaking fast in his language, and a terrified expression on his face. Even though he could not fully understand everything the German was saying, he did manage to make out: _"My friend. Please! Please don't kill me! Spare me, my friend!"_

_What am I to do? _Wally thought.

What was he to do? Was he to kill him, as now he had a slight feeling that that was what was going on around the other trenches? Or should he let him go? He could not bring himself to kill the German! But he and his soldiers had killed his comrades earlier on in the day so why should he be spared? Still though, he just could not do it! He did not want to be faced with another overwhelming feeling of guilt after he had killed Franz.

"E…E…English?" the German struggled to say.

"W-what?" Wally asked.

"E…English!" the German repeated. "Y-you understand me?" the German said hopefully.

Wally stared at him for a moment before nodding slightly. When he did, the German dived down onto his knees and grabbed the bottom of Wally's army top and began to grow hysterical. A few tears began to run down his face.

"P-please!" the German cried. "Please! Spare me!" he buried his face in his top.

"Who's that whining?" a voice barked from further down the trench. Wally and the German looked to see Stanley walking up towards them, another soldier behind him. As soon as Stanley saw the German alive, the anger inside him exploded into rage.

"What the bloody Hell is he doing alive?" he shouted and stormed up the trench towards the two, his face red with anger.

Wally tried to reply but everything was going too fast. Before he could even speak, Stanley grabbed the German by the back of the neck and pulled him from Wally, almost pulling him over as he gripped down hard onto his top.

_"Nein! Nein!" _the German cried. _No! No!_

He shook out of Stanley's grip and crawled back over to Wally like some kind of frightened pet running over to It's master for protection.

"Please, my friend! Help me! Do not let them kill me!" he cried.

"C'mon, get over here, ya berk!" Stanley growled, grabbing the German and pulling off Wally, dragging him across the floor and throwing him in front of him.

"N-no!" Wally protested, grabbing hold of Stanley's arm. "Y-you can't just….you can't just kill him!"

Stanley whipped round to face him and the soldier, who had his weapon aimed down at the German, who was close to breaking down in tears, looked up at him, a mixture of anger and shock on his face.

"Has it not occurred to you that he's killed a lot of our mates?" Stanley almost shouted at Wally, his face reddening even more. "And you think we should just let him go?"

"Can't we at least take him prisoner?" Wally asked desperately.

Stanley gave a small unimpressed chuckle. "We got enough of 'em," he said.

"And none of 'em deserved to be spared," the soldier added. He cocked his rifle and aimed it at the German. "Now less jus' kill this Hun!" he said.

Wally was not going to let this happen. No! This German did not deserved to die!

"No!" he half-shouted defiantly.

He walked past Stanley and grabbed the German, who gave a weak cry as Wally grabbed him, thinking he was going to be killed.

"C'mon!" Wally said frustratingly. "C'mon, get out of it!" he threw the German down to the floor of the next section of the trench that went left. "Go!"

The German scrambled to his feet and, with a final glance at Wally as he got up, ran down the trench to the end, where a kind of T section was in the trench and ran right into the next trench and disappeared.

"I can't believe you!" Wally heard Stanley say and he turned to look at him. "Y-you really are nothin' but a softy!"

"I-I…" Wally stammered

Suddenly, a loud clank came from the trench behind him and he, Stanley and the soldier next to him looked to see three German soldiers, all of them in almost the same manner as the one Wally had just prevented from being killed, emerge from another dugout. They had their arms raised in the air above their heads and were shouting to the British they wanted to surrender.

All of a sudden, Stanley grabbed Wally's weapon, pushed him aside and aimed the weapon at the German soldiers, the soldier who had followed Stanley doing the same.

_"Nein! NEIN!" _one of the German soldiers screamed in terror.

Two gunshots filled the air and two of the German soldiers fell to the trench floor, dead.

"Tha's for me brother!" the soldier next to Stanley shouted at the dead Germans, all the anger coming out of him.

Stanley aimed at the last German soldier and fired another shot at him, killing him. "An' that's for winter in the trenches!" he shouted at the last German. He turned to Wally, who was staring wide-eyed down the trench at the corpses of the Germans, and grabbed his uniform around the chest and pulled him to his feet and thrust the rifle into his hands. "Maybe seein' that'll toughen you up a bit!" he growled at him and walked off down the trench he had come through, the soldier, with a final glare at Wally, followed him.

Wally stood rooted to the spot, looking at them and down at the corpses of the Germans, a look of absolute disbelief and terror on his face after witnessing something like that.

_This can't be happening! _he thought. _This really can't be happening!_

Unfortunately, it was and was continuing all around him.

**Later that night**

Darkness had now descended over the Somme, which was now covered with the thousands of bodies of the French, British and German armies. For most of the day, the fighting had raged and brought death and further destruction on the surrounding villages, especially on the German side of the front. Even now as darkness was descending, the fighting was continuing, though, thankfully, it was starting to draw to a close.

In the British trench, the few soldiers that were left looked out across No Man's Land. A few officers and a few wounded were with them. Even though these soldiers and officers were lucky to be alive, they were not celebrating or overjoyed. They were exact opposite. They were dead silent.

The reason: out there scattered all across No Man's Land were their wounded comrades, those who were lucky not to have died of their wounds so far, their moans and groans rolling across the ever-stretching blackness that now seemed to have conquered the world.

"Sir, more of our boys coming in!" a soldier said to a nearby officer, who ran over and looked out to see a group of figures approaching.

"Quick, get in here!" he hissed.

A moment later, the figures jumped down into the trench one-by-one, wanting to get into a safe place before the Germans fired on them.

The last to enter was Wally. He slid down to the trench floor, but got up without cursing himself at falling over or anything. They had just escaped from Schwaben Redoubt after the Germans had launched a counterattack and driven them away. They were fired on from the German trenches near Thiepval and most of who had gone to the Redoubt had been killed on the way back.

"That the last of you lot?" the officer asked him.

Wally nodded and walked away quickly towards the dugout. He just wanted to get inside before people started asking him questions about what had happened. As he walked down the trench, he passed another officer with a group of volunteer soldiers who were preparing to climb out into No Man's Land and retrieve their wounded comrades, something which was dangerous despite the fact it was dark outside. But just as he reached the dugout entrance.

"Wally,"

He was stopped by Adam. He had been lucky to escape being killed earlier on in the day and had crawled back to the trench. All of the men he had been leading towards the German lines earlier on had all been killed.

Wally tried to move past him, but Adam stopped him.

"Wally, where's Hans, Moe and Gomer?" he asked.

"I don't know," Wally replied, not looking up at him. "Adam, can you move please," he said.

"What is it?" Adam asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Adam, just move, please!" Wally snapped.

Adam was startled by his sudden outburst. He moved aside and Wally quickly walked past him into the dugout. Adam watched him go, a little shocked. He had not seen Wally like this before. He had never seen him angry. It was so surprising that he stood where he was for a moment before he sighed and walked out into the trench, hoping that Wally would be feeling better when he got back.

Wally sat down on one of the crates, which he had pulled out from under the table, and rested his head on his hands, which were placed over his eyes. Everything he had seen today replayed itself over and over in his mind like a film. All of those men he had seen be killed en masse and watching people he thought he knew kill German soldiers who wanted to surrender! It-it was…horrible!

Outside, the officer with the group of volunteers quickly looked out across No Man's Land to make sure there were no German patrols or anything watching them.

"Alright, good lucks, lads," he said. "Bring 'em back,"

"Thank you, sir," one of the soldiers replied.

The four volunteer soldiers pulled themselves out of the trench and walked into No Man's Land, ready to search for their comrades, who they could hear groaning and moaning in pain but in the darkness it would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and the fact that there were enemies only about a hundred feet away, armed with weapons and looking for you did not make things any better.

Then, as the officer coughed slightly, the noise of machine guns firing from faraway filled the air, followed by the cries of men. Upon hearing the noise, the officer looked down at the trench floor, guilt filling him at knowing that his decision to send volunteers out to save the wounded out there had sent more men to their doom.

In the dugout, Wally heard the noise of the gunfire and the cries of the men enter the dugout from outside. For a moment, he lifted up his head as the noise filled his ears. Then, he placed his head behind his arms and began to cry.

July 1st 1916, a day of massacre and no mercy on either side. It was one day that would remain with Wally for the rest of his life.

**(Note: The disaster on the Somme by the British was for a number of reasons. Poor British intelligence, poor leadership and a failure of the week long barrage. All three had led to the British suffering about 20,000 killed, most within the first two hours of the attack, on the first day of the Battle of the Somme. To this day, it remains the bloodiest day in British military history. Only in the French sector the Germans had been driven wholesale from their defences as the French army had been more experienced in trench warfare.)**


	94. Wounded

**One month later**

**August 13****th**

Just a little over a month ago, on July 1st, the British and French armies had launched an all-out attack on the German lines in the Somme sector of the Western Front following a week long bombardment of the German trenches. However, within minutes of going over the top and advancing in a Sunday stroll towards the German trenches, the British were mown down by machine gun fire as the Germans had survived the bombardment. Despite small breakthroughs made by the British, the casualties taken that day were high. By the end of the first day of the battle, around 20,000 British soldiers had been killed. The French had suffered around 2,500 casualties as they had advanced quickly across No Man's Land and drove the Germans fully from their defences.

However, it had not ended there.

Despite the great cost on the first day of the battle, the British commanders had ordered the offensive to continue ahead to try and break through the German lines. However, some good had come out of the attack so far. The great cost on July 1st had made British commanders learn of their mistakes, and from this came the tactic known as the 'Creeping Barrage'.

The creeping barrage was a mixture of the Sunday stroll tactic and the bombardment launched onto the German lines before the battle began. The tactic was for an opening barrage onto the German lines which would keep the Germans pinned down whilst the British advanced in a Sunday stroll across No Man's Land towards the German trenches. Then, as the British approached the German trenches, the barrage would gradually move ahead and by the time the Germans would have recovered from the original barrage, the British army would be upon them and they would sweep aside those that remained and then march on with few casualties. This tactic had won them much ground that should have been captured

In one of the captured German trenches, a group of British soldiers moved through the maze turning pathways built through the very ground, heading east in the direction of Thiepval. Scattered about in the trench were the remains of the wooden boards which had made up the walls and the floor of the trench. Among them were many bodies of Germans who had been killed by the barrage. In the distance, the booms of the barrage echoed throughout the air as it began to move on ahead of the British forces.

Among the group was Wally. Behind him were Moe and Hans, the two having survived the first day of the battle by diving into a shell hole and creeping back to their trenches, though they had to avoid fire from a German sniper that was trying to pick off any survivors, wounded or not. Leading the group was Adam. The squad of about seven had advanced across No Man's Land with a large force of a few hundred others, who were now around about at the same level in the trench system as them or were beginning to climb out into the almost equal No Man's Land behind the German line and advance towards the next German trench.

Adam held up his hand, signalling the squad to stop, as they neared a turning at the end of the trench that led right.

"Wait here a moment," he said, gingerly taking steps towards the turning.

When he reached the turning in the trench, he poked his head around the side of it to look down the trench, which led to a small kind of earth ramp that led back up onto normal ground. Along the sides of the trench were several dugouts, some of which had large holes in the entrances, as did the trench floor as the barrage had come down hard on this trench. A few fallen German were scattered up and down the trench underneath rubble and dirt that had been blown off where it had been before the barrage.

Adam withdrew his head and looked back at his squad. "It's clear," he said. "Let's get moving,"

He led the squad down the next section of the trench towards the end. As they passed some of the bodies, Wally looked down at one of them. The German soldier was lying on his back with his eyes closed as if he had been looking up at the sky. He had short brown hair and was slightly taller than Wally with a small moustache and a beard growing on his face. By the looks of it, he had been killed by shrapnel, most likely quickly as if he had been wounded, they would have heard him or he would have been evacuated from the trench to be treated.

Wally sighed. _He's lucky _he mentally said to himself._ The war's over for him_

He continued down the trench after the others, passing the body of a younger German soldier lying on his side under a pile of wooden boards and a layer of mud over his body. He was about eighteen with short black hair and green eyes, as his eyes were open. Wally sighed through his nose and passed on, the others following close behind. This had a terrible thing to see when you were in a trench, a group of soldiers lying dead, having been killed in something there was no doubt they did not want to be part of. It was going to be crippling for their families when they learnt of the deaths of their family member who had signed up to fight for Germany, but, unfortunately, they was nothing they could do about it. He would be buried later on and remain here forever rather than in a churchyard in the village or town or city he had come from.

After a few moments of stepping over bodies and piles of rubble, the squad came out of the trench into the No Man's Land between here and the next trench. Left, right and ahead of them, they saw other squads of men marching on towards the next line of German trenches. Far off ahead of them, they could see the earth being thrown up by the barrage falling onto the German lines. Upon seeing this, however, Adam's face turned into a look of shock.

"The barrage," he said with a voice filled with disbelief and concern. "It's moving ahead,"

"Well, tha's good, innit?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Not if It's moving ahead too quickly," Adam replied. "We have to move, quickly!"

Adam began running towards the next German trench, the squad, taken by surprise by his running, were confused at first but followed him when they realised what was going on. As they ran, Wally looked left and right to see other squads of men running towards the next German line as well, probably knowing that the barrage was moving ahead too quickly as well.

WHOOOOSSSHHHHH! BOOM! WHOOOOOSH! BOOM!

Two mortar shells landed in the middle of a squad of ten men about twenty feet to their right. Seven of the men screamed and fell to the ground, some crying and yelling in pain as they were peppered with shrapnel, but others went quiet and did not move again, obviously meaning they were dead.

"Keep moving!" an officer shouted from somewhere.

Closer and closer, the squads of men moved towards the German line, but as they approached, the mortar shells falling began to rise as well. The screams of the dying filled the air as the shells exploded between the squads, taking the lives of many and leaving many more wounded. Wally began to panic a little. Eventually, one of those shells was going to hit them if they were out in No Man's Land for much longer.

Then…

WHOOOOOOSSSHH! BOOM!

"AAAHHHH!"

A shell exploded in the middle of the squad and three of the soldiers fell to the ground. Among them was Wally. He had landed on his side with his right arm covered by his body and his eyes were closed as if he was in a deep sleep.

"Oh no!" Hans exclaimed in a panicked voice.

Adam screeched to a halt and shouted for the rest of the squad to get into a shell hole, which they did. Crouching low, he moved over to Wally and placed a hand on his neck to check his pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive, but they had to get him out of here.

"Stretcher bearers!" Adam shouted.

As if on cue, all along the line, pairs of men carrying a stretcher ran out from the trenches, running out to get the wounded and take them to safety. One pair ran over to Adam.

"How long's he been out?" one of them asked.

"He was wounded just now," Adam answered as he helped them move Wally onto the stretcher. "D'you think he's gonna be alright?" he asked them.

"If we can get 'im back to hospital quickly enough," the other stretcher bearer replied and they picked up the stretcher and ran off back in the direction of the British lines. Keeping low, Adam crawled over to the shell hole the rest of the squad was taking cover in.

"Is he gonna be alrigh'?" Moe asked.

Adam sighed. "I hope so," he replied. "Alright, keep moving," he ordered and, with Moe and Hans taking one last worried look at the pair of stretcher bearers, the squad climbed out of the shell hole towards the next German line, right into a hail of gunfire and falling shells.


	95. What if you don't make it?

**Later that day**

"Uuuuhh!"

With a blurry vision that made him feel woozy almost to the point of vomiting, Wally awoke, sitting up to find himself on a sheet less bed in a small square shaped room with a bare wooden board floor and equal looking walls and ceiling. A small light was on the ceiling above and a white door that was turning grey was on the right wall leading out into a corridor. By the looks of it, he was in the hospital. On the floor next to the bed was his boots, which were next backpack and his rifle, and over the end of the bed knob was his coat.

Then, a sharp pain struck Wally as if he had been hit with a rifle butt and his right hand began to shake slightly. He winced and gasped loudly and looked down at his shaking hand, where the pain was coming from, to see that it was in a bandage, with the top of it near where the fingers were stained with blood.

"How did that happen?" he asked himself.

Gradually, it began to come back to him. He, Adam, Moe, Hans and a few other soldiers had been advancing towards the German lines and then they were hit with mortar shells. Wally had been looking up and saw something fall towards him and two other soldiers for a split second before…

_Knock Knock _went the door. Wally looked up and the door opened to see Eve enter the room with a blood stained apron tied around her waist. Over her hands were a pair of thin gloves, but they too were slightly bloody. A look of relief came upon her face when she saw him.

"Oh, Wally!" she said, rushing over to him and embracing him tightly. Wally, wincing a little as he raised his right hand, embraced her back. "I was worried about you," she said before releasing him and sitting down beside him and taking off her gloves.

"No, I'm okay," he replied. "I've only just woken up,"

Eve smiled slightly but it quickly faded from her lips when she and him looked down at his right hand.

"Is it bad?" Wally asked her.

Eve was silent for a moment and looked up into his eyes. He met her gaze and sighed. He knew as soon as he looked at her that it was bad.

"When you got here, we tried to save your hand," she explained to him. "We did, but…" she paused for a moment, trying to explain this to him. "But," she said again. "But not all of it,"

"What do you mean?" Wally asked and Eve responded by taking his bandaged hand and turning it over to show the other side of it to him.

Wally could see his hand bandaged up and his fingers and thumb, though why did his smallest finger now looking like a kind of stump that…

Oh. Now he knew what eve meant. When the doctors had tried to save his hand, it would have to come at a price, and that price was the loss of his, or most of his smallest finger.

"We couldn't save all of it," Eve said, taking her hand off his. "We had no choice but to amputate what was left of it,"

"What was left of it?" Wally repeated and she nodded.

"Not all of it was on your hand when you arrived," she replied.

"Where was the rest of it then?"

"Wherever you were when that shell hit you and your squad,"

"Oh," Wally looked down at the floor, his eyes staring at the bare wooden boards as if he was seeing the remains of his smallest finger in the mud of No Man's Land right in front of him. He sighed. "Well," he said after a moment. "it could have been worse. I could have ended up losing my whole hand,"

"Or your whole life," Eve muttered.

"Sorry?"

Eve looked up at him sadly. "Wally," she said in a breaking voice. "I-I…I'm…I'm scared," she said.

"Scared?" Wally repeated. "Scared of what?"

"I'm-I'm scared of you being out there in the front," she said to him, a few tears falling down her cheeks. Wally placed a hand on her shoulder and she embraced him, resting her head against the front of his shoulder. "I'm getting worried about you. I mean, every time you come here, your wounds get worse. First you get shrapnel in you, and then you get shot in the shoulder, now you've lost your smallest finger," she sniffed and looked up at him. "I'm worried that you'll come in here one day and you'll leave in a body bag,"

"Hey, don't talk like that," he said to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Eve, that won't happen. I promise you. I won't die here,"

"But how do you know?" she gasped a little as more tears fell. "How do you know that you'll live until the end of the war?"

Wally paused and looked down at the floor. She did have a point. How could he be sure that he would live until the end of the war? Even though the end of the war might be a few months away, it could still happen. Anything could happen out here in the trenches. A lot of unexpected things _had _happened so why should he think that he would be okay when hundreds of others had and ended up being killed.

After another moment, he sighed again and looked up at her. "Eve, I promise you that I will live until the end of all this," he said to her. "I promise you,"

"And what if that promise is broken?" She asked him, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

Wally did not answer and looked down at the floor again for another moment until he sighed and embraced her again. "Then I don't know, Eve," he muttered into her ear. "I just won't know," he repeated.


	96. Going home

**The next day**

**August 14****th**

A clear day had dawned for those on the Western Front. The Sun was shining brightly in the mostly clear blue sky, though there were several thick clouds about, and a bit of a stronger, though cooler breeze was blowing through the air than usual. Still though, all of this was barely noticeable by the men on the Western Front for the fighting at the Somme was still continuing. So far, the British were suffering badly for their creeping barrage tactic, despite pushing the Germans back, had not achieved a breakthrough and because it was moving too quickly ahead of the British soldiers, the Germans had enough time to regroup from the barrage and fire on the British as they came towards them, making some days near reminiscent of the slaughter that had taken place little more than a month ago.

In one of the train stations behind the lines, the last of the wounded and the few soldiers on convalescent leave were boarding the train for It's journey to the coast to take them to the ships waiting to take them back across the Channel back to Great Britain.

Among them were Wally and Eve. The two stood on the platform, staring at the train, their hair being blown slightly in the wind. Wally had his backpack on around his shoulders. Inside it was his belongings and his coat and around his shoulder in a sling was his rifle. His hand was still bandaged from the injury he had received yesterday.

Wally stared at the train with mixed thoughts running through his head. Even though he was on convalescent leave for a few days, he was still doubtful about going back to Britain. What made him even more doubtful was that he was going home. He would be seeing it and the horses and the green fields and Barham village again, but…what about the people he knew really well. His parents and his neighbours? For some reason, he just did not feel particularly overjoyed by the fact that he was going to see them. 

He sighed after a moment and turned to face Eve. "Well, this is it," he said top her in a low voice. "I'll be seeing you then, Eve,"

She nodded. "Take care, Wally," she replied.

"I will,"

She embraced him and held him tightly and he embraced her. As they stood there hugging each other, the last of the wounded, along with a few nurses, were taken aboard the train with the few soldiers that were either helping carry the wounded onto the train. The two looked at the nearby carriage that Wally would board in a few moments' time. The times that had been here before ran through their heads and they smiled slightly.

"It's kind of strange, isn't it," Eve muttered to Wally and he looked down at her and she looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "Usually It's the other way around," she said to him. "Usually I'm the one leaving and you're the one saying goodbye to me,"

Wally gave a small smirk and looked over at the carriage. It was true. The last time they had been here on saying goodbye was when Eve had to return to her home to comfort her mother and grandmother on the loss of her father at Verdun and plan out what was to happen to her family. Wally had been here to meet her when she had returned, which was when he had told her about the planned offensive that was still going on.

There was a big difference though between Eve leaving and him leaving. When Eve was leaving, neither he nor she knew whether she would return to the front. Obviously, she had done. With Wally, he would be coming back to the front after a few days of leave in Britain, something which he did not want to do, which pretty much almost all of the soldiers either side of the front would agree with him on, but neither he nor they had any choice. They would have to come back and fight or they would face a court martial, which would most likely result in death. Either way for them was going to be met with death unless they were lucky enough to either be wounded and for it to be serious enough to have them taken off the front, or for the war to come to an end, which the Somme offensive was trying to achieve at the moment and many still did believe it would do just that.

After another moment, Wally sighed. "Well…I have to go, Eve," he said to her finally.

She nodded and gave him a final hug as tight as she could as if she wanted to leave a loving mark on him until he returned. He embraced her tightly, not wanting to let her go. If only time would stop for a while, he could have stayed this way with her forever. He was going to miss her as well as his friends, but maybe this leave away from the front would be good for him.

Nearby, one of the officers on the platform blew a whistle. "Alrigh', everyone on board!" he called.

Wally looked up at the officer and then down at Eve. "I best go, Eve," he said to her.

She nodded, but before he could let go of her, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled his face towards her. Her lips parted slightly and rested on his face. Wally lost his breath for a moment and felt his heart leap in his chest. He could have sworn his face was going to turn red because he feel the heat spreading through him as if his body was a cold and dark place and Eve, a place of warmth and light, was giving him something to him to change his body from being a dull and cold place to something that was warm and loving.

After a moment, she moved back from him and giggled when she saw his cheeks blush a little.

"You enjoy that?" she asked him.

For a moment, he was staring ahead at her before he snapped back into reality. "Oh…oh, um. Yes, yes. Thank you, Eve,"

"It's okay," she replied. Another whistle blew from nearby and the officer shouted for the few remaining people on the platform to board the train. "You better go," Eve said to him.

Wally nodded. "I'll see you when I come back," he replied and he turned and rushed over to the nearby open carriage and climbed on board. Around him were about twenty five men lying on stretchers that were placed on the floor. With them were several nurses that were tending to the wounds with a few soldiers sitting or standing next to the walls to give the nurses and the wounded room.

As Wally turned to look at Eve, she waved at him and he waved back. A moment later, the carriage door closed, sealing them in darkness for a moment before a few slots along the walls near the ceiling opened up and the sunlight from outside flooded into the carriage, lighting it up again. A moment later, the carriage shook slightly as the train began to roll forward away from the platform.

Wally sighed and rested his back against the wall as the carriage shook slightly. He looked up at the ceiling, thinking of the days that would follow today. He was going home, but…he was not as ecstatic about it. For some reason, he just did not feel entirely happy about it. Maybe it was just him, but what if it was not?

_I may have to wait for that answer _Wally mentally said to himself.


	97. Normal life again

**The next day**

**August 15****th**

The air above the sea always smelt fresh for some reason to Wally. Maybe it was just him, but it just felt a lot cleaner than when he was in the country or around the trenches. Then again, when you had been in a place witnessing nothing but death and destruction and having to live with the constant fear of death and shells falling, it was bound to smell fresh from the gunpowder and the stench of those who would not be returning home from the war.

On the bow end of a small destroyer, Wally looked out across the great expanse of the Channel all around him. In almost all directions, he could see nothing but water, the only exception being that just a few miles ahead of the destroyer were the white cliffs of Dover, the borderline of Great Britain and the sea.

He sighed and looked up at the sky as he leaned forward a little on the railing that ran around the edge of the ship, looking up at the sky. It was another clear blue day but a cold wind was blowing on the sea, but he seemed to be impervious to it. He was more concerned with what was coming to him now that he was coming home, but his head was not filled with jovial thoughts or anything that seemed to cheer him up. He was more…concerned, empty even as if he was not happy at all at the fact that he was returning home. Of course he was…but just not about everything about his home.

The ship rose up slightly and then dropped down again onto the water as it hit a small wave. Wally held tightly onto the railing to stop himself from being thrown over the side. He had never really liked the sea because of It's roughness when a ship would sail across it. How he had managed to survive back when he, Hal and William were on their way to France almost two years ago, he did not know.

Wait. That thought stuck him like a lightning bolt. He looked up and at the sea around him. To him, he could see the ghostly ship he, his brother and William had boarded so long ago on their way to the war raging in France. He sighed at the thought, knowing that back then the war seemed like an adventure. It really did look that way, but he had been fooled by the propaganda and the need to prove that he and his brother were to become men, and back then the best way to do that was to fight for king and country. Now, however, he regretted it all. Seeing his friends be killed mercilessly and watching them kill mercilessly and watching the effects of the fighting of trench warfare up close had really opened his eyes to the truth about the war. It was no longer the adventure it had been portrayed as two years ago. It was now a field of slaughter and everywhere across Europe and Africa and the Middle East there was nothing but death.

"If only I could turn back the clock," Wally muttered to himself. "I could stop myself from going out to this hell hole,"

**Ten minutes later**

The destroyer moved lazily into the port of the small city of Dover, it's dry dock packed with trucks, some normal army ones, others with large red crosses on the side of them. Standing outside them were several nurses and the drivers of the trucks. Nearby, a group of people were watching the ship as it slowly drifted into port, eventually coming to a halt with a slight jolt. The sailors along the sides of the ship moved the long wooden ramp from the deck of the ship, which was packed with soldiers, mostly wounded, and dropped it down onto the dry dock. Gradually, one-by-one, the wounded were taken down from the ship and back onto Great Britain.

After about ten minutes, Wally walked down the ramp to the dry dock at the bottom with four other able bodied soldiers. Behind them, a group of wounded were being taken down by the medics on the ship to the waiting army medical trucks.

When Wally reached the dry dock, moving away from the end of the platform to give room to people walking up and down it, he sighed and gazed around at the nearby buildings of the city. Thoughts of…that day almost two years ago filled his mind. He could remember him, Hal, William and all the others that were leaving the barracks to go to board the destroyer and set off for the war raging in France, the crowds filling the streets to celebrate them leaving to fight for Britain and him…him feeling really happy about it.

Now, however, all of that were just distant memories now. The few happy memories he had of home before he left to join in what he now really regretted doing.

What was more, he was returning home, back to the farm, to his parents. It would be good to see them again, but…it was what they were bound to talk to him about when he got back there.

_I wish they wouldn't _Wally thought.

"Alright, all able bodied soldiers from this area of the county, come here," an officer shouted from a nearby truck. "We'll drop you all off at ya homes,"

Wally sighed again. "Well, this is it," he muttered to himself and he walked over towards the truck.

**One hour later**

Just outside the village of Barham, the grass in the fields surrounding the village blew like small spears in the warm summer wind. High above them, the sun continued to shine brightly in the sky, warming the world below. It was a peaceful place and was enjoyed by everyone in the village.

On the cobbled road leading from the village, an army truck came to a halt neat to a dirt path coming off the side of the road and a young soldier climbed out and jumped down to the ground. It was Wally. He thanked the driver, said goodbye to the last two soldiers on the truck, the other nine having been dropped off in Dover and the other villages surrounding it, and the truck drove off down the road.

Wally looked down the dirt path towards the cottage, the barn and the stables at the end. His home. He had finally returned. Sighing, he walked down the dirt path towards the cottage. The closer he got to it, this voice in his head kept saying to him that it was not going to be a good idea. Why, he did not know at all and he ignored it. Even though he was not overjoyed to return here, he did felt it was a good thing. It was time away from the front and all the death and destruction he had to see for a long time.

He came off the dirt path and onto the dirt ground between the end of the path and the house. He began to wonder if his parents were in, but they were most likely were for his father could barely go anywhere with his bad leg.

He reached the door, breathed in and raised his hand and knocked lightly, and waited.

Nothing or no-one replied. He knocked again and waited for a few moments, but still no one replied. Wally sighed.

"They're probably out," he said to himself. He looked over towards the stables, his attention going to the horses. "I'll go in there and wait for them," he muttered.

He walked over to the stables to find the door open. He peered inside and at once, another feeling of reminiscence hit him. The time of when he and Hal had been in here and when they had taken the horses out and broken their neighbours' fence. He smiled to himself and walked into the stables. In the three separate pens, all three of the horses were there. The horses were snorting loudly. On the floor, a large grey bag of oats was hanging from the wall to Wally's left next to a saddle on the right of it and a rein on the left of it.

"Hey guys," Wally said, walking into the stable, taking his backpack off and placing it and his rifle on the hay covered floor. He walked up to one of the horses and patted it lightly on the head. The animal snorted loudly. "I've missed you three," Wally said to them as he moved onto the next horse and ran a hand through the hair of the horse.

When he reached the third horse, the animal leaned a little and sniffed him. Wally chuckled as he lightly pushed back the animal.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" he said to the horse. "I'll get you some oats,"

He turned and took a handful of oats from the grey bag on the wall and held them under the mouth of the horse, who began to eat them, It's teeth crunching them loudly. Wally smiled at himself at the noise. It reminded him of when he and Hal had last fed them before they got into trouble. His smile faded a little upon thinking of his brother. If only he was here with him…

"Wally,"

Wally jumped slightly and looked down towards the stable entrance to see a woman with brown hair and green eyes and was dressed in an old dress with a white apron standing there. It was his mother.

"Mother!" Wally exclaimed happily, rushing down towards her, dropping the last few oats onto the floor, and embracing her tightly. She embraced him back.

"I'm so surprised you've turned up all of a sudden," she said. "But…But I'm glad your back,"

"So am I," Wally replied, though he got the nagging feeling in his head again, reminding him that just minutes earlier he had been thinking that it was bad for him to return home on convalescent leave, but, again, he ignored it.

After a moment, the two released each other. "Your father will be glad to see you've come back," she said to him.

It was then Wally felt that nagging feeling again in his mind, but this time he did not ignore it. In fact, a hint of concern began to fill him. However, he did not want to show it so as not to worry his mother. He forced a small fake smile onto his face and nodded.

"Okay," he replied.

"I'll just go and tell him," Mary replied and she rushed off to the house.

Wally sighed and collected his backpack and his rifle. He looked up at the horses and said: "See you three later," and walked out of the stable and back towards the house. He walked around the side of it and through the open backdoor and into the kitchen to see his mother sitting at the table in the middle of the kitchen. His father, dressed in a pair of old grey trousers and an old grey top, with his cane resting against it and was sitting at the table as well with a closed book on it, smiled when he saw him.

"Ah, Wally!" he said, grunting a little as he got up and grabbed his cane and ambled over to his son. When he reached Wally, he embraced him tightly, laughing a little. "Oh, oh It's good to see you again, my little soldier,"

Wally gave a small smile and hugged his father back. "It's good to see you too, father," he said.

John patted his son on the back. "I've missed you," he said, releasing him and holding onto him by his arms. "But I'm certain that you've been doing us good out there, even though you've been out at the front a little longer than expected,"

_A little longer! _Wally thought, a slight hint of anger in him. _Try almost a year and a half longer! _

However, he did not let his anger get to the better of him and he smiled at his father and nodded, who smiled back and slapped his arms.

"Do you know what," he announced. "I think you and I best go down to the village pub and meet Barnes and the others in there,"

"Oh…uh," Wally replied, a little uncertain. His father and mother noticed it quickly.

"What is it?" John asked.

"Oh…uh…It's just that, well..." Wally began, quickly trailing off. He paused for a moment. "Well…I was just wondering if…if they were going to be there," he lied, hating himself for doing so.

John nodded reassuringly. "Of course they will," he told his son. "Now, come on, Wally. Get into your grey suit and I'll change into mine and we'll head down to the village," and with that, John turned and ambled over to the staircase; Wally followed.

However, when he reached the staircase, ha paused and looked at his mother, who had been looking at him a worryingly. For a moment, their gazes met and she longed to ask him what was wrong, but before she could Wally turned and followed his father up the stairs.

"It's been very different without you and Hal here," John said to him, his cane thudding hard on the wood as he went up each step.

"Have you heard from Hal?" Wally asked.

"We got a letter quite recently," his father replied. "About a month ago. Just saying how he was and hoping we were alright and that he had heard from you," it was then John paused at the top of the stairs, Wally stopping with one foot on the last step before the landing and the other on the second before last step before the landing, and turned to face his son. "Speaking of which; why haven't we heard from you?" he asked.

"Oh…uh," Wally replied, pausing again for a moment. "I was…we were busy on the front for most of the year," he lied again.

John stared at him for a moment blankly, which worried Wally into thinking his father knew he was lying, but then he chuckled. "I bet you were serving your country well," he said. "I can't wait for you to tell me and the others your stories from the frontline,"

Wally nodded reluctantly. "Sure," he replied.

John nodded and opened his bedroom door. "Right, go get dressed," he said. "I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes,"

Wally nodded and walked past his father, closing the door behind him. The room was exactly as he could remember it being. The two beds were both made, having not been slept in for a long time, their bedside tables with their pictures and their drawers had not been disturbed, as had their wardrobe, and the candles resting on the top of the bedside cabinets had barely moved, only having done so when they were being cleaned.

Wally walked over to his bed and sat down on the side of it facing the window and looked out. He heaved a heavy sigh.

"Well, this is it," he muttered to himself. "Back to original life,"

That, however, was going to be something he would find hard adapting to again.


	98. A drink and something shocking

**One hour later**

If there was one thing Wally did not like doing, it was drinking a lot, and right now that was what he was having to go through. His father had taken him down to the village pub where Barnes and two other of his father's friends, a short plump man with blonde hair and brown eyes and a small bushy black beard called Thomas and another man, who was about Wally's height and had grey hair and blue eyes called Joseph, were sitting outside. They had greeted him as if he was some kind of hero, which he did not really like, and before they knew it, he was bombarded with questions on life on the front and had drinks forced onto him. It was beginning to annoy him.

Right now under the midday sun, the clouds having finally drifted away into the distance, the five sat around one of the tables outside the pub, which was in the middle of the village on the main road. Thomas was smoking a cigarette and Barnes finished drinking another mug of beer.

"Ah! That's the stuff!" he breathed happily, setting the mud down onto the table, which had about six mugs on it, four of them full. "So, Wallace, have you heard from your brother recently?" he asked.

Wally, who was holding his head up with his hands, which were curled into fists and brought up from his elbows, which were resting on the table, lost in a kind of daydream, snapped back into reality and looked at his farmer neighbour. "Oh, uh…n-no," he replied. "I sent him a letter a while ago, but I haven't had a reply,"

"D'you know, I remember when you and your brother made yourselves look like idiots when your horse ran into the village that time," Joseph said, half lowering his finger at Wally several times. "You two were very boisterous back then. But now, your grown men, the both of ya!"

"And I'm proud of that," John, who was sitting next to his son, exclaimed, slapping his son on the back. "He's served his country well and has proved he's a grown man!"

"Wha's it like out there on the front?" Thomas, who had just taken another puff of his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his mouth like steam train chimney would do, the smoke dancing in front of his eyes.

Wally looked at him questionably. Was he to really tell him what it was like? There was no stopping him, but what of his father and everyone else. What was more; they had not really asked exactly about him being on the front. What if they did?

"It's…It's quite hard," Wally replied after a few moment's pause. "But…but we cope with it,"

"Ah, that's good," Thomas said, taking another puff from his cigarette.

"I wonder how long this offensive'll take to kick the Huns out of their holes?" Barnes asked.

"It will be difficult," Wally told him. "The Germans do have a lot of reserves and strong defences,"

"Ah, yes, but we do have the weight of numbers on our side, and bravery, I can assure you of that," Joseph replied. He grabbed the mugs and laid out three of them in a line and put the other three in a line about five inches from the first line. The others watched intently. "See it like this, Wallace," he explained. "This side-" he placed his hand on the end mug of the second line nearest Barnes. "-is our army and the Frenchies'. And this side-" he rested his other hand on the end mug of the first line of mugs near Wally and John. "-is the Huns'. What we have to do is push right ahead into them," he grabbed the 'British' line of mugs and moved them across the table into the 'German' line of mugs, pushing the middle one back towards Wally and John as if it was a recreation of what might happen. "Once the Huns' line is stretched to breaking point, It'll snap and we'll breakthrough to Germany and end the war. There's no other way to beat them and this is our best chance to do so,"

"Exactly!" John said. "The more we attack, the more they'll be stretched thin to the point of being broken. Soon, we'll have this war over and done with and we can revel in victory,"

"I just wonder what'll happen if we don't win this battle," Thomas piped up, dropping his cigarette on the ground and grinding it out with his heel.

"I don't see any reason why we can't," Barnes replied.

Wally listened to them, annoyed over the fact that they were too blinded by this greatness of victory to realise that where he had been had been true Hell on Earth. They were like politicians discussing something that was important to them and them only and not thinking about how it would help anyone else. This war was an example of that and now people like Wally were going to have to fight it out until the end came, _if _it ever came.

"Oi, you! Come 'ere!"

Wally looked up from the table and down the street to see a young boy of about sixteen dressed in grey trousers and a grey top with black shoes walking really fast down the street, a worried expression on his face. Behind him were two tall burly looking men in army officer uniforms. They looked annoyed as they shouted at the boy, walking faster to overtake him. He panicked and tried to out walk them but they caught up with him and forced him against the wall.

"What are ya doin' out 'ere on the streets?" one of the officers barked at the boy.

"I-I'm j-just…getting some bread, sir," he stammered nervously.

The second officer laughed. "Ya gotta have better things to do, ain't ya?" he said. "Why don't ya join the army,"

Wally's eyes went wide when he heard those three words. _Join the army! _That was…this is completely unfair! It was…completely out of order! He could not believe they were forcing someone to join the army.

"B-but…I-I-I c-can't!" the boy stuttered.

"Why?" the first officer barked, angry at the boy's reply.

"He's too much of a wimp!" the second officer said and laughed. His friend joined in. The boy shrunk down a little and they began making comments about him and pointing at him.

From across the road, Wally watched all this unfold with wide-eyes. Why were they doing this? This was completely unfair and unbelievable! They should not be going about forcing people to join the army…

The army! What if…what if they were responsible for what was going on right in front of him?


	99. I hate you!

**Two days later**

For two days, Wally found himself feeling something even he could not believe. He felt like he just wanted to leave home already to go back to the front and away from his parents, particularly his father. Even though he had been happy to return home to start with, now he began to wish he did not.

After going to the pub and talking with Barnes, Thomas and Joseph, news of Wally's return to Barham quickly spread and whenever he went into the village, people would try and stop him to talk to him about what it was like, something he did not want to do at all no matter who asked him. What was worse; after he had witnessed the young boy be bullied by the two army officers, he had asked someone, who he had promised to tell about what life was like in the trenches in exchange, if the army was responsible for sending the army officers out to get any young boys to join the army. He was shocked to his core when he was told they were.

Afterwards, he barely went out much. He found excuses for when his father wanted to take him out and display him like some puppet, like tending the horses or helping mother or anything like that. Even his mother had tried to ask him if he was okay and he would always say he was, though he was longing, and she knew this, to tell her that he was not okay, but he just did not want to tell her at the same time. He just wanted this leave to hurry up and be over so he could go and be back with his friends on the front. His father was gradually becoming annoyed at him for his reluctance to go out or to talk.

Then, it all exploded on the third night of his leave.

That evening, Wally was sitting at the table reading a book from his room, his eyes moving from left to right as he read the pages. He had spent the day on the farm, rejecting another offer from his father to go into Barham, which he knew had annoyed him, but Wally just tried to put it out of his mind. He just wanted to stay here for the rest of his leave and not be paraded about like a puppet. He just simply did not want to talk about it to anyone else because it pained him, but whether his father was too blinded by that he did not know. Even though his father himself had been in war, that had been against natives of Africa, not against another industrial nation of Europe with the same kind of weapons like Great Britain and he had not had to spend day after day in the trenches, living with the fear of death and hoping that he would see the end of the day.

The sound of a key in the back door lock made him look up to see his mother enter with a basket of bread and fruit and his father right behind her.

"Ah, you okay, Wally," she greeted.

He nodded and went back to reading his book. However, as his father entered and shut the door, he heard him breathe a sigh of relief as if he was glad his son was here, but Wally knew what was coming and braced himself for what was to come.

His father ambled over to the seat across the table from Wally and sat down. "Another day over," he said, sighing in a relieving manner. "D'you know what? I think we have a celebratory meal tonight," he suggested. "What do you two think?"

"I think that's okay," Mary replied but Wally just kept on reading.

"What about you, Wally?" John asked his son. Still he did not talk to him or even look up.

John sighed in annoyance, which made Mary worried. "Can you put that book down, please, and look at me!" he said.

Wally sighed and looked up at his father with an annoyed look on his face.

"Now, come on, answer me, Wally," John said. "What do you think about the celebratory meal tonight?" he repeated in a voice that said he wanted an answer.

"I think you should stop this!" Wally hissed.

John stared at him wide-eyed, as did his mother. Did he just answer him rudely? "Did you just use an angry tone at me?" his father replied. "What is the matter with you?"

"What is the matter with me?" Wally repeated, staring at him with angry eyes. "I'll tell you, father! It's you! It's you parading me about in the village like some kind of puppet!"

"Boys, please, calm down!" Mary said.

"I am not treating you like some kind of puppet!" John protested.

"Yes, you are!" Wally said. "You've paraded me around the village and gotten people to ask me about what I don't want to talk about! You've continually asked me about me being on the frontline in France! I don't want to talk about it, okay. I've tried to tell you, but you just wouldn't listen to me,"

John paused for a moment and then sighed. "Well, I'm sorry," he said. "We were just curious,"

Wally shook his head in a manner of disbelief. "Curious?" he repeated in a disgusted tone. "You were curious?"

"Yes," John replied. "Why are you acting like this, Wally?" he asked.

Wally sighed, trying to control his temper. "I'm like this because I didn't want to come home," he replied.

John and Mary went wide-eyed. "What?"

Wally nodded. "It's true," he said. "I didn't want to come home on leave. But I gave it a try because I thought it was just me. Now I'm wishing I _had _stayed away from here,"

John sighed and rubbed his hand hard down his face. Mary walked over to him and rested a hand on his arm, but he gently pushed it off and looked at Wally.

"This is because of the war, isn't it?" he said. "Wally, I know what It's like-"

At this point, something inside Wally must have snapped because as soon as he heard his fathers' words, he shot up from his seat, knocking it to the floor, and making his mother gasp in fright, an angry look of fury on his face.

"No!" he shouted, pointing a finger at him accusingly. "No, you do not know what It's like!" he paused for a moment, staring at his father with anger. "You have not had to stay in a trench for a year and a half, watching people die right in front of you everywhere you look and living with the fear that you could join them or be…disabled or limbless for the rest of your life! You have no idea on how horrible it is for me!"

"Wally, you wanted to go out there!" John barked back, getting up from his seat, using his cane to hold him up. "You and Hal had wanted to go out there!"

"No," Wally replied, speaking through gritted teeth. "You pushed us into going out there!" he hissed, pointing his finger again at his father. "You wanted us to go out there! This is your fault!" he turned and grabbed his book off the table and looked at his father once more and whispered: "I hate you!" and stormed off up the wooden steps, leaving his mother and father speechless at the kitchen table.

Wally threw open his bedroom door and, slamming it shut behind him, stormed over to his bookcase and threw the book onto the top shelf. He was seething with anger as he looked out of the window. His hands, which were curled into fists, began to shake slightly. Never before had he been this angry, but right now he just did not care.

Eventually, his anger overwhelmed him again and he kicked the side of his bookcase, shaking it and the books on it slightly, and sat down on the end of his bed.

Within seconds, his anger seemed to ebb away from him, only to be replaced by guilt. Never had he ever said something like that to anyone, even to people like Gomer who he had really despised. What was worse about him saying it was that he had said it to his father, a member of his family! He felt terrible, but…but in a way, he felt like he had to do it.

_I'm sorry _he mentally said to himself, burying his face into his hands. _I didn't mean it_

Whether he meant it or not, it had been said and there was nothing he could do about it now.


	100. Goodbye for the last time?

**The next day  
****August 18****th**

In the slowly blue turning sky, a bright and yellow circle began to rise from behind the hills. The sun was coming up; meaning morning was not far behind. A gentle breeze was blowing in the air and the people of the world in which the sun was rising on were getting up to greet the new day and carry out their daily activities.

In the farmhouse outside the village of Barham, all was quiet, just as it had been since last night when there was an argument raging inside it. In the stables just outside the house, the horses sat on the hay covered floor, snoozing away into their own little dream lands. Not a sound came from the house, neither outside nor inside it. It was peaceful.

Well, almost not a sound.

In the room once occupied by two boys, Wally stood next to his bed, dressed in his washed uniform, his backpack on and his rifle in a sling over his shoulder. He had not just woken up; he was wide awake, as he had been for the past half an hour. He had gone through his backpack to make sure everything was in there, which it was. His bedroom curtains were opened and his candle on the bedside cabinet next to his bed was lit. Next to it on the cabinet was a piece of paper with writing on it.

Wally picked up the piece of paper he had finished writing not too long ago, just before he had done one more check of his backpack just to make extra sure everything was in there, and read what was on the paper.

_Dear mother and father,_

_When you find this note, I will be long gone on my way back to France. I have a few days left of convalescent leave, but the argument last night just really drove me to the point where I just wanted to get out of the house and out of the country for good._

_I hope I did not scare or worry you last night. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. After I said to father I hate him, I felt really, really guilty. I wish I could have stopped myself, but what is done is done and I think I just need to leave here for good now._

_I have really enjoyed you both being here for me and for looking after me in this home, but because I have been away for so long now in a completely different place with a new lifestyle and new friends who are like family to me, I think that is my true home now and I know that I must return to it._

_I would just like to say that I'm sorry again for what I said last night. If you do not forgive me for it, I understand. I just ask you not to tell Hal this as it would only cause more trouble between us all and him as well as each other._

_I love you both very much,_

_Wally_

Wally sighed through gritted teeth, not out of anger but of sadness, and wiped away a tear from his eye. He really wished what had happened last night would not have taken place. But like he knew, it just had to be said, but he still wished it could have been said without him saying that he hated his father, something which he never thought he would ever say to anyone in his life, no matter how horrible or cruel they were to him or anyone else he knew.

For a few moments, he stood in the middle of his room, staring down at the paper. From outside, the first rays of sunlight began to creep through the window and across the wooden floor to him as if they were attracted to him. Then, he picked up the candle in his other hand and blew it out and set it back down on the bedside cabinet. He turned and, keeping as quiet as he could, crept to his door and opened it gently and stepped out into the landing, quietly closing the door behind him. He looked over his shoulder at the door on the left wall at the end of the corridor about ten feet from him. His parents' room. They were still asleep, which he could tell by his father's snoring. Heaving another sigh, he walked down the steps and into the kitchen. The chair he had been sitting on had been placed back upright and was pushed under the table again, along with the other chair his father had been sitting on. Even though they were just inanimate objects, just looking at them made what happened last night replay itself over and over again in Wally's mind as if they themselves were continually reminding him of what he had said to his father. It made him feel horrible.

He walked over to the table and placed the piece of paper down on it, leaving it for his parents for when they would wake up later on, by which time he would be long gone back on the way to France. He looked back over at the staircase as if he was expecting his parents to come down them, but they remained empty, just like him. He sighed again and, taking the key off the peg on the wall, unlocked the back door, opened it and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

As he walked around the side of the house into the ground between the house and the dirt path, he stopped and looked over at the stables. He had a feeling this would be the last time he would ever be here so he had a three more friends to say goodbye to. He walked over to the stables and into them, his feet shuffling loudly as they hit the hay on the floor.

Upon hearing this, the horse in the first pen, which was lying down on It's stomach with It's legs brought in close to it and It's head resting between the front two legs, woke up and raised It's head to look up at him.

"Hey," Wally greeted, whispering and smiling at the horse, which stood up on It's front legs and moved towards him. He stepped towards it and gently patted It's face.

"I won't be seeing you or the other two anymore," he said gently to the horse, which snorted as he rubbed his hand down the front of It's face. "I'll miss you all,"

He pulled the face of the horse into an embrace held it for a few moments. He managed to hold back a tear, knowing that this as most likely to be the last time he would ever see them.

"I hope my mother and father look after you," he said to the horse, giving a final gentle pat on the face before he stepped away from it. "Bye,"

He turned to walk out of the door when he was stopped. Standing there was his mother. She was in a cream coloured dressing gown. Her brown hair was a messy crop on her head and she placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn, meaning she had only just woken up.

"Mother?" Wally said, surprised. "What are you doing out here?"

"That was what I was about to ask you," she replied. She sighed and walked over to him, stopping just in front of him. "Wally, why are you leaving?"

"Did you not find the not I left you?" he asked.

"Yes, but I just want to know if that is the reason you are leaving," she answered.

"It is," he heaved a heavy sigh and looked into her eyes. "I just cannot stay here, mother. I just…just don't feel right being here. I mean, it is a lot different being here instead of being in the trenches. I-I just…feel like I have to go back,"

Mary sighed. Although what Wally was saying was kind of acceptable, she knew there must be, and probably was, a much deeper reason than what he was telling her.

"It's because of last night, isn't it?" she inquired.

Wally stared at her for a moment before nodding slightly. "Yes, well, mostly," he replied. He sighed again. "Either way, mother, I just can't stay here,"

Mary nodded and sniffed, wiping away a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. She knew her son would have to go and because neither of them knew where this war was going, or even if it would end this year or next year or the year after that, he could be killed. She feared that, but there was nothing she could do.

All of a sudden, she embraced Wally tightly. He embraced her, holding back a few tears. He too knew that this war, as short as it may be as it could still end this year, could still claim his life. His mind went back over the last year. All those little thoughts he had had in his head saying that it was a bad idea to come home, he had ignored them. Now, he wished he had listened, but if there was good thing, it was that he was saying goodbye to his parents, hoping that he would be alive when the war was over.

After a few moments, Wally released his mother and she released him. "Look after yourself, mother," he said.

She nodded. "I will," and he walked past her back outside and across the ground towards the dirt path. When he reached it, he looked back over his shoulder to see his mother standing at the entrance to the stable and she waved at him. He waved back, still glimmering with love for her and his father, but inside him alongside that love was the feeling of it only being temporary for this could be the last they ever hear from him.

He continued on down the path until he reached the cobbled road and began walking down it towards Barham, back in the direction of Dover from where he would board the next ship back to France and, eventually, the trenches.


	101. Back to the front

**Two days later**

**August 20****th**

**Location: Somme front, France**

Being back on the Western Front was like entering a past memory, only for Wally this memory was more of a reality, one that would not be able to leave until it ended, not until he decided to end it. As he sat in the back of the army truck, looking out over the war torn muddy wasteland of where the fighting had been raging, he began to wonder if this would ever end and if he would live to see the end of it all. Maybe he would, maybe not. Fate would have to decide on that.

THUD! The back wheels of the truck hit the edge of a shell hole as they drove past it, making it rock slightly. Wally had to grab onto his seat to stop himself from falling the floor. As he sat back up, resting his back against the wall of the resting area of the truck behind him, he began to think of his friends in the trenches. Had they survived whilst he was gone? The last he had seen of them was when he was running with them across the wasteland and then that shell burst near him and knocked him out. A hint of concern did begin to fill him as he wondered if any of his friends had been killed. Hopefully not, but if they had been hurt, he hoped it had been enough to get them back Great Britain, hopefully for the remainder of the war if they were lucky by those kind of wounds tended to be fatal.

As the truck drove on towards the newly captured German trenches, taken a few days ago, Wally began to see more men walking across No Man's Land to and from the trench he was heading to. Some of them were carrying stretchers, some empty, others with a wounded man on them. He sighed and tried not to look at the wounded, knowing that it would make him feel homesick already, and he had only just left after admitting that he had thought it was bad for him to return there on his convalescent leave.

After he had left his home, he had walked into Barham and managed to catch a taxi carriage that was heading to Dover. When he got there about an hour later, he had discovered that the ship that would be there to return wounded and take more men to the front had been delayed by a German U-boat lurking somewhere off the British coast and so he had to spend the night there. Yesterday morning, after he had woken up and gotten something to eat, the ship came into port, the U-boat having reportedly left the Channel, and he boarded with the new arrivals going over to France. The ship left at midday and he had arrived last night and spent the night in a small barracks in a house a few miles outside Le Harve. Then this morning, he joined a group being sent to the Somme front on a truck and now about four hours later, here he was, only the new recruits here had been dropped off in another part of the line.

Finally, Wally felt the truck slow down and he stood up and picked up his rifle from under seat and put his arm through the sling and dropped it on his shoulder. As he did this, the truck stopped and he jumped down onto the ground.

"'Ere ya go, mate," the driver said. "Back on the fron',"

Wally nodded. "Thank you," he replied and he walked past the truck and into the large system of trenches in front of him.

As he walked down a long section of the trench, he sighed. Well, this was it. He was a soldier again and he was back on the frontline, back to the life he had been following for the past year and a half. It felt a little different to him at the moment but that was probably because he had just returned back here from home so it was bound to. He would get used to it again eventually, but whether it would be easy or hard to do just that was the real question.

Wally turned right into a kind of T section of the trench and walked down the next section towards another trench, though this one was much shorter, on the left wall of the trench he was in. All around him, a few soldiers were working. Some were giving out ammunition to a few lines of soldier who were queued up waiting for the chance to reload their weapons, others were talking to officers about the situation on the front just a few hundred yards away to the left, directly where Wally was heading. As he reached the trench on the left wall, he stopped as two stretcher bearers ran past, carrying a stretcher with a wounded soldier lying on it. The soldier had a bandage around his eyes and neck and his arm hung over the side of the stretcher as if it were dead, which it probably was. Grimacing slightly, Wally walked on into the next trench and down that one.

"You'll be alright, Bob," he heard a soldier say from a square shaped hole on the right side of the trench as he passed it.

A young soldier of about nineteen was sitting on the floor of the hole with a friend of his, an older soldier of about twenty two, lying on a stretcher, groaning slightly. He had blood stained bandages around his chest and arms and his face was red from the pain caused by the wounds. He had been hit badly by shrapnel earlier this morning and was struggling to stay alive. His friend was next to him, praying that he would but the wounds were great and it was unlikely he would make it, living the day maybe but to pull through would take a miracle. 

Wally walked on to the end of the trench and turned left into another T section of the trench system. About twenty feet ahead of him on the right side of the trench was another trench that led off towards the frontline trench, which was just at the end of the section of trench in front of him. In this trench and the next trench, there were more soldiers at work, though there were some dugout entrances scattered up and down the trench and there were a few soldiers and officers within them, meaning that there was a lull in the fighting. He had come back at a good time, but how long the lull would last no one knew.

As he turned into the next section of trench, he heard the sound of distant booming; meaning shellfire was obviously taking place somewhere. By the looks of what he had seen in the trench, the shellfire was to keep the Germans hammered down in their trenches and stop them from getting any reinforcements to this area and make their trench easier to take when the British attacked again.

As Wally reached the frontline trench, he looked left and right to see soldiers keeping an eye out across No Man's Land in case anything was to happen from the German lines, though what the point of it was as the German trenches, from where Wally could see, were under heavy fire was hard to tell.

"Eh, Wally!" someone shouted.

He looked right to see two soldiers approaching him. A smile broke across his face.

"Hans, Moe!" he exclaimed. 

When Hans, who was in front of Moe, reached him, he slammed his hand on his arms. "Your back 'ere early," he said. "I thought we weren' expectin' ya till later on,"

Wally shook his head. "No, I was lucky to get onto the first truck heading down here," he replied.

"Be' ya glad ta be back," Moe said.

Wally laughed a little. "Not really," He looked around to see there were people absent from their group. Gomer, he knew what had happened to him, but what about Adam and William? "Where's Adam and William," he asked.

"Adam's off somewhere plannin' an attack on the Germans an' William…" Hans said, quickly trailing off at the end of his sentence.

Wally looked from Hans to Moe, seeing quickly that they had looks on their faces that told him someone was no longer with their group of friends. He sighed, not wanting to accept it, but he had to.

"When did it happen to William?" he asked.

"Two days ago," Hans explained. "We were 'eading this way an' a shell hit him. When we go' to him, He 'ad lost his whole arm," Wally shuddered a little upon hearing this. "Luckily, though, a couple a stretcher bears came over an' took him away,"

Wally brightened up a little. It was horrible what Hans had told him…but was William still alive?

"Is he still alive?" he asked them.

"Far as we know, yeah," Moe answered, nodding a little.

Wally breathed a little sigh of relief. Maybe William was not here, but at least he was still alive and now with his arm gone, he was going to be lucky for he would be able to back to Great Britain as he was not really much use out here on the front with only one arm. He would be able to live out the remainder of the war with his family. Unfortunately, for Wally that was no longer the case.

Well, at least he could be glad the offensive would end the war soon.


	102. A wanting wound

**Fourteen days later**

**September 3****rd**

If there was one thing that the offensive on the Somme was achieving infamously, it was that small gains were big made with a huge loss of life to the Allied armies, mostly to the British though as they continued to stick to their creeping barrage tactic, which was gaining more territory than the previous bombard and then march tactic that had been used on July 1st, but often tended to quickly fall apart as the barrage would move forward too quickly and leave the men far behind and unable to catch up, giving the Germans more time to prepare for the British soldiers coming towards them and mow them down. Still though, the commanders decided to stick to the tactic despite the enormous losses.

Just outside the German controlled village of Thiepval, which, as the British were close enough to see it from their trenches by now, had been completely reduced to rubble, save for the remains of a few buildings such as the chateau of the village, the British forces marched across No Man's Land towards the next line of German trenches, which had been hit by the barrage in order to soften them up before the British soldiers would go over the top, but, as had happened before, the barrage was moving ahead too quickly and the British knew it and were waiting for the Germans to cut them down, which they prayed would not happen.

Near the left end of the large formation of several hundred British soldiers moving across No Man's Land, Wally walked across the mud wasteland with Moe a few feet behind him and Hans to his right. Adam was a few metres ahead, just in front of about six other soldiers. An officer nearby shouted at a group of men to keep moving as they were beginning to slow down, though they were getting caught in the mud a little.

"D'ya think their all dead?" Hans inquired, a hint of worry in his voice.

"No," Wally replied, shaking his head a little. "They're just getting ready,"

"Les 'ope they don' get ta their machine guns," Moe replied, walking forward a little quicker so he was now walking alongside Hans.

As the three moved across the wasteland of mud, Wally began to wonder if this offensive was really going anywhere. When he had heard about the plans for it some time ago now, their commanders had promised that the offensive would break through the German lines and bring an end to the war, but it was the end of the summer now. Why was it taking so long? They had promised it would be over by now, or if not over but at least near the end and that they would have broken through the German line by now.

It was then a thought he had would never have to ever think about came into his head. _What if this doesn't work? _What if this offensive ended in a failure? It would be a disaster because so many had died in this offensive and if it was to fail in breaking through the German line, it would be a serious blow to Great Britain and It's Commonwealth allies, something that it would never be able to recover from.

As Wally became lost in his thoughts, he failed to hear an officer, a few tens of metres away on his right at the front of the huge force of soldiers, shout out a warning. Then…

BOOM! Something exploded about ten feet behind him, followed by a scream as a soldier fell to the ground, dead, having been torn apart by shrapnel from the shell. Wally, who had snapped back into reality with a gasp, looked around frantically to see what was going on.

BOOM! BOOM! More shells exploded nearby, causing more soldiers to fall to the ground, never to rise again.

"Get into cover!" an officer shouted.

Wally did so and dived into a nearby shell hole. Just in time as machine gun fire began to rake the entire wasteland. As Wally pulled himself up to the edge of the shell hole to look out, he watched a soldier fall to the ground in front of him, no longer moving. Shuddering a little, he retreated back into the hole like some kind of animal retreating back into It's den in fear.

Then, as he turned round, he went wide-eyed as he saw a soldier lying against the slope of the shell hole nearest the German lines. What made him go wide-eyed was that this soldier, who was lying on his stomach on the slope, had his foot raised above the edge of the shell hole, directly in view of the firing from the German lines.

"What are you doing?" Wally asked him, aghast as he crawled over to him.

"I want to get shot," the soldier replied, gritting his teeth and almost closing his eyes tightly, waiting for a bullet to hit him.

"Why?" Wally exclaimed. "You'll end up getting hurt badly," he went to grab the soldier's foot to pull it down, but the soldier shook it out of his hand.

"Bugger off!" he growled. "I want to get shot! I wanna go home! Now get lost!"

Wally moved away from the soldier, shaking his head a little in shock. He could not believe someone would go to such lengths to get out of here and get home. This was making people go mad, berserk even.

Then again, would he do the same? Would he try and get wounded so he could get home? Before maybe, but not now. Not after what had happened.

He sighed and looked out of the shell hole at the German lines, listening to their machine guns chatter away and cut down many men all around him.

**Author note**

**I would like to thank and dedicate this chapter to Robbie Burns (1895-2000) who, during the Battle of the Somme, had witnessed a soldier lying on a trench parapet with his foot raised in the air so he could get wounded and be sent home. **


	103. A new weapon of war

**Twelve days later**

**September 15****th**

And still the Somme offensive went on and on. Everyday up and down the line, many men on both the Allied and the German side were, but still the fighting was going nowhere. Minor gains were being made, but still at a great cost to the one who was trying to obtain those gains. The offensive, to the soldiers, clearly going to go on longer than expected. Many were now even thinking that it would _not _be breaking through the German frontline and putting an early end to the war.

However, neither side on the front was fully prepared to face a new weapon that was to come onto the battlefield and it would surely change the way in the which the offensive was fought.

**Ruins of Thiepval**

Among the now almost non-existent ruins of the village of Thiepval, the British forces slowly moved. Gunfire and shells flew all around, taking the lives of many. Even though the Germans had been pushed back into small pockets in what was left of the village, they were holding out vigorously, having cut down many attempts to drive them from the area with their machine guns.

Near the other side of the village, Adam led a squad of British soldiers, made up of Wally, Moe, Hans and nine others over the war torn landscape strewn with bodies, shell holes, small miniature trenches systems and the remains of what had been the buildings of the village. Nearby, the sounds of a machine gun firing filled the air. A shell flew over and exploded somewhere.

"Right, we're almost there, lads," Adam warned. "So get ready,"

"'Ave they still no' taken the cha'eau?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Nah," Moe replied, shaking his head. "If they 'ad done, we wouldn' be strugglin' across this bloody hell'ole. Why don' the Germans jus' leave 'ere already?"

"Would you?" Adam inquired to which Moe did not reply.

On and on they marched, the fighting gradually getting closer as now the shouts and cries of the men on both sides began to reach their ears. Then, as they made their way over a small mud river, which had been a trench but a recent rainstorm a few nights before had literally filled it up and made it look like some kind of miniature river, they saw the remains of a stone wall with a small pillar of stone rising up from on the other side of the wall, probably having once been the chimney or part of the wall that held the ceiling up. The remains of what was left of the building were mostly gone, probably having sunken into the mud or been removed to provide space for a defensive position. About ten feet in front of the chateau, the squad could see a machine gun nest in another small miniature trench. A group of four German soldiers were in the trench, two manning the machine gun, the other two, one of them being an officer, were firing with their rifles at a group of British who were taking cover in a shell hole.

"They need our help," Adam said, crouching low and moving his hand down towards the ground, ordering the rest of the squad to do the same as him, which they did.

"Question is; how?" Wally asked. "If we fire on them from here, they'll just mow us down,"

"We can try an' flank' 'em," one of the soldiers suggested.

"Not sure if tha'll work," Hans replied.

Suddenly, the ground seemed to explode with dirt all around them and the squad dived into the mud or behind, or into, the nearest cover, which was either a shell hole or a pile of rubble. Unfortunately, one or two of the soldiers were not quick enough to find cover and were killed instantly, their bodies tumbling down the side of the embankment of the 'river' into the filthy water with a splash and lay there.

Wally breathed out a quiet sigh of relief as he partially looked out from behind the pile of rubble he was hiding behind to see the German machine gun firing at a shell hole near him, about six feet to his right, where Moe and two other soldiers were hiding. Where the others were he did not know, but he hoped they were okay.

"Alrigh'?" a voice inquired and one of the soldiers laid down next to Wally behind the rubble, keeping as low as possible so as to present himself as less of a target to the German machine gun. "Wonder how we'll ge' through this," he said.

"Where's Adam?" Wally asked.

"Dunno," the soldier replied. "I'll have a look," and he lifted his head up a tiny little bit to look around, but Wally grabbed him and pulled him back down, only just narrowly missing a few bullets from the German machine gun.

"Not a good idea to do that," Wally said to him.

Nearby in a shell hole, Adam, who was with Hans, Moe and three other soldiers, pulled himself up and quickly looked at the German machine gun nest before diving back down into the shell hole again, narrowly missing a few bullets.

"No way we can make our way across and fire," he said. "Only thing we can do is fire on 'em and keep 'em pinned down," He took out his pistol from his side pocket and checked to see if it was loaded and then he looked up at his men. "Alright, Hans, Moe and Nick-" he pointed at one of the other soldiers. "-You two stay here and fire on the Boche when I say. The rest of ya, follow me when they do,"

Hans, Moe and Nick nodded and moved over to the edge of the shell hole, their rifles raised and at the ready. The other two soldiers moved over either side of Adam and waited to follow him. They began to shake a little with fear and their breathing became more ragged, knowing that if the German machine gun turned towards them, then they would all be dead.

"Alright, on three," Adam said. The two soldiers and he took a deep breath and prepared for the life or death dash. "One…two…three!"

Hans, Moe and Nick rose up and fired several shots at the German machine gun. The German officer shouted something and the soldiers on the machine gun nest ducked down. As soon as they did, Adam and the two soldiers with him charged out of the hole towards the German machine gun, Hans and Nick still firing away. Nearby, Wally and the soldier next to him watched.

"We bes' go with 'em, mate," the soldier said to Wally and he got up and rushed after Adam and the other two soldiers; Wally following close behind.

As Adam and the men with him neared the shell hole, the German machine gun suddenly turned towards them. Fear instantly gripped him.

(Note: the Italics are German)

"_Kill them!" _the German officer shouted as the weapon turned towards the British soldiers.

Adam grabbed the two soldiers with him and threw them into a nearby shell hole and dived in after them. The ground tearing up at his heels. The three thudded to the muddy ground at the bottom of the hole, slightly dazed but alive.

"You two alright?" Adam asked them and they nodded.

Suddenly, two more figures slid down the side of the hole to the bottom, startling the others but they were relieved to see it was Wally and the soldier that was with him.

"Sorry about that," Wally apologized. "Is there any we can get out of here?" he asked.

"If we can knock out that bloody machine gun, then yeah," one of the soldiers, who had been with Adam, replied. "I'll try and pin 'em down and we can run,"

"No, don't!" Adam warned.

Too late. The soldier rose up to fire at the Germans, only they got him first. A bullet slammed into his chest and threw him to the bottom of the shell hole. His friend grabbed him and turned him over only to see he had been killed.

"Damn!" he growled, pushing the body away from him. "Bastards!"

"Well what are we gonna do now?" one of the other soldiers asked. "We can't just stay here,"

"I don't know," Adam replied.

The air seemed to move above them as more bullets flew overhead, just inches above them. They heard the German officer shout something and the sound of rifle fire followed. A scream came from somewhere, though not from where the rest of their squad was. It was most likely from the other squad of British soldiers that had been battling the Germans when they arrived.

Wally sighed and shrunk down a little against the side of the hole, desperately wanting this to be over. He just wanted to get out of here, but then again, so did the others, but they were stuck here, not only because of the Germans but because of the other army officers from where they had come from. If they tried to retreat, they would be shot for cowardice. It was pointless though trying to stay here and the fight the Germans when they had the advantage of firepower and had something they could run behind for protection if they needed to. It was hopeless.

It was then he felt something different. His hand, which was lying on the ground, began to shake a little. At first he did not notice it, but as the seconds ticked by the ground began to shake a little more. Wally looked around to notice loose bits of dirt on the sides of the shell hole fall down to the bottom. The others quickly noticed it as well and looked at each other with confused looks. What was going on?

Suddenly, the German machine gun stopped firing. Wally moved over to the edge of the shell hole and looked up, as did pretty much everyone else in the shell hole to see the German officer pointing in their direction.

_"What the Hell is that?" _he shouted.

The squad looked behind them and went wide-eyed at what they saw.

Coming towards them was a machine. A huge metallic silver coloured machine. It had a huge square shaped middle section with two parallelogram shaped kind of tracks akin to that you would find on tractor wheels. At the front and back of the square shaped sections were kind of small extensions that were joined to both of the insides of the parallelogram shaped tracks, the front extension went up at an angle and the rear extension went down at an angle, both coming to a straight end halt just a few inches from the end of the parallelogram shaped tracks. On both sides of the machine, in the middle of the side of the metal pieces where the tracks were, were two huge cannons. The entire thing made a rumbling-like sound like a kind of monster as it moved across the land.

The squad stared wide-eyed at this thing as it approached them. Never before had they seen anything like this. It was obviously something on their side as it was coming from their own lines, but what in God's name was this thing?

Suddenly, the German machine gun chattered away loudly, making the squad duck down into the shell hole, only to find that the Germans were not aiming for them, but at this thing approaching them. The sounds of metallic thuds filled the air as the bullets hit the front and side of the machine, but did not penetrate it, showing that it had very strong armour. The two Germans on the machine gun began to panic and began moving the weapon from side to side in desperation to try and find a weak spot on it, but there just did not seem to be one.

"_Move, you idiots!" _the German officer hissed, pushing the two German soldiers on the machine gun aside and manned the weapon himself. He cocked it and began firing at the machine, but fared no better in trying to stop as the bullets just bounced off it.

Then, the machine came to a halt. The German officer stopped firing and he, along with pretty much everyone else in the area, watched as the cannon on the right side of the machine turned slightly so it was facing the Germans in the trench.

The air seemed to explode as the cannon fired. The machine gun nest was blown apart and the German officer, along with the two German soldiers who were sitting either side of him in the nest, were thrown into the trench, dead.

The last German swore and pulled himself out of the trench and ran off in the direction of Germany, hoping to get as far away from this thing as possible. Within a few seconds, he had jumped into a small trench system and disappeared from sight. The tank rolled on towards the remains of the chateau, over the small trench the Germans had been in, before coming to a halt just a few metres from it.

The soldiers in the shell holes emerged, staring wide-eyed at this thing. Some were reluctant to approach it, even though it was from their side, as if they feared it would turn on them. Then again, who would not? Never before had they seen something like this?

"What the Hell is this thing?" Adam gasped.

"That, Adam, is our newest weapon," a voice said and he and everyone else turned to see a middle aged officer of about fifty with grey hair and an aftershave, walking over to them. He had an impressed look on his face. "It a new weapon that'll certainly win us this offensive and this war,"

He came to a halt in front of the squad, sighed happily and turned to face them. "Gentlemen," he said, raising his arm with the hand pointing towards the machine as if he was introducing it. "Say hello to the tank,"


	104. A book of memories

**Later that night**

A sea of darkness had descended over the Western Front, turning the partially cloudy sky to an ever-stretching blackness filled with thousands of stars that shone brightly in the night sky. With had come a spell of almost complete silence, save for the distant booms of the guns on either side of the front and the sound of talking coming from those who were settling down for the night.

In the remains of the village of Thiepval, Adam and his squad of soldiers, or what was left of them, began to settle down for the night. He was already asleep, sitting down with his back against the wall of the chateau behind him. Moe, Hans and Nick were lying on the ground of their sides, all sound asleep. The rest of the squad that had been here earlier on with Adam had been sent ahead as reinforcements for another attack being launched further on from Thiepval.

The only awake here was Wally. He was sitting on the ground at the left end of the chateau remains with his back resting against the stone wall. On the ground next to him was his backpack, which was open. On the ground next to his backpack, leaning against the stone wall with the bottom of it on the ground, was his rifle. He had been awake for a while now and was gazing up at the night sky. On his lap were a few breadcrumbs. He had not eaten since earlier that day and by the evening, he was starving. Now, however, he just sat gazing up at the sky, wondering of the battle going on in other places.

Since they had taken the chateau from the Germans earlier on, they had heard that gains with these huge machines, now called tanks, had been immense for the Germans, having almost no idea on these new machines, fled upon the very sight of them, making the task of taking trenches filled with machine gun nests much easier.

However, if there was one down side with these tanks, it was that they were prone to breaking down at almost any moment. During the attack here on the chateau earlier on today, another tank was supposed to have been here, but it had broken down. Even though one tank had still made a huge difference, both in taking the German position and also having a psychological effect on them as they had never seen these machine before, it just showed that these machine, as great as they were, had one great disadvantage. Several others being used elsewhere on the Somme today had also broken down, slowing the advance of the Allies in some places but still they had made huge gains, though it was a reminder that these new weapons could not be completely relied upon.

Wally sighed and brushed the breadcrumbs off his lap onto the ground. He was going to need to get some rest now for they would be on the move again tomorrow. Where exactly he did not know and that was only going to unnerve him even more.

As he was about turn on his side, facing his backpack, he noticed something in his backpack and he reached in and took it out. It was that book. The one that his parents had sent him last Christmas and had all the photographs of him, his brother and his parents and all four of them together with them. He opened it up and it landed on the page with the photograph of him, his brother and his parents out in the field with a summery scene behind them. Looking down on it made him force himself to hold back a few tears. What had happened a few weeks ago at home had filled him with regret. He just wished that he had not snapped at his father and said he hated him, but that was done now and even though he had said he did not mean it to his mother, for whom she had forgiven him for; he just still thought that he felt unwelcomed at home for what happened that night.

_I'm just glad Hal doesn't know _he thought to himself in a relieved way. If Hal knew about this, it would only cause much more fiasco, one that could really tear apart him from his brother and them from his parents.

A stir from Moe a few feet from him snapped him back into reality. It was best he put the book away and got some sleep now. Taking more look at the photograph of them all, he closed it and dropped it into his backpack and laid down at the ground, resting his head on his backpack. As he lay there, he looked up at the stars and was entranced by their beauty, something he could remember feeling a long time ago when he and Hal had been told off by their father for taking the horses out without his permission, _again_, and had ended up smashing their neighbours' fence. The thought made him smile upon remembering what he had his brother used to get up to before all of this happened. If only it would end this year and be over with.

Sighing once more, he closed his eyes and let himself be carried off into a deep sleep.


	105. Death of the captain

**One month later**

**October 15****th**

One month on and still the fighting goes continues on the Somme. It was obvious to many by now that the offensive was not going to put an early end to the war. Even though the tanks had made considerable gains and pushed the Germans back, as long as they continued to break down, they would only be limited gains. Plus, with winter approaching, the British and Commonwealth and French armies were trying to push back the Germans as quickly as they could, but they had run head long into prepared German defences, newly prepared defences built right for this offensive, something that the British army commanders believed would not pose much of a threat.

In No Man's Land between the new German trenches and an old system of German trenches, which the British had captured a few days earlier, Wally and Adam sat in a small shell hole. About two hundred feet away, on the other side of a small cloud of mist and smoke, caused by a barrage thrown onto the new German trenches, they could hear the battle for the new German trenches raging. The British had launched an attack to try and drive back the Germans. Using the creeping barrage tactic, they had driven the Germans from the frontline trenches of the entire new trench system, but they were still fighting to drive them back from the entire system overall.

Wally watched the battle raging with a hint of worry. Somewhere in all that mess, Hans and Moe were battling the Germans. He and Adam, however, were lucky because they had been ordered by a high ranking officer to provide spotting for artillery. Whilst Adam was working on a radio at the bottom of the shell hole, Wally was with him to protect him and warn him if anything was to happen.

"Roger that, command," Adam was saying. "The attack is going on. Bombardment needs to keep falling on the rear trenches of the trench system and stop the Jerries from getting any reinforcements,"

"_Roger that," _came a reply from the radio.

Adam looked up the shell hole at Wally. "Anything new?" he asked.

"No," Wally replied, not turning to face him. Adam went back to the radio. Silence fell between the two as Wally resumed looking at the battle. An explosion sounded from the battle, which he could only just hear over the shouting and the distant gunfire coming from the trench.

He sighed. If there was one thing he knew this offensive was, it was that it had been a waste of life. It had started off badly and then gotten better and now, even though gains were still being made, these new machines of war were all but useless if they broke down and the breakthrough the British commanders had been boasting about to their men had not come. Tens of thousands of British and Commonwealth and French soldiers had died, along with just as many German soldiers, and now that winter was on It's way, there was no doubt the offensive would end soon. Even though they may be close to a breakthrough, though Wally did doubt this, neither side would want to risk continuing the battle in freezing cold conditions.

Adam heard him sigh and looked up at him. "Are you alright, Wally?" he asked.

Wally shook his head as he looked down at him. "Have you ever thought if this offensive was going to succeed?" he asked Adam.

Adam shrugged as he looked back down at the radio. "I did at first, but now I know it won't," he said. "I doubt it'll succeed now, though, Wally. We've got a host of problems on our side. Tanks break down easily or get stuck and are useless, we've lost thousands of men since the first day, the German trenches we've run into are like fortresses and newly prepared, everyone's tired and now winter's coming," he sighed. "We're just basically stuck down here trying to win a battle that now It's obvious we just can't win," Another sigh, though of frustration, as he tried to get the radio to work. He had a bit of difficulty trying to make it work earlier on and now, because he had accidentally turned it off, it was going to be a pain in trying to start it up again.

As he did this, a shell flew overhead and burst on the ground about ten metres away. Wally, who had ducked down, rose up slowly and looked around to make sure nothing else was coming. He gave a small whistle, counting himself and Adam lucky that the shell had not landed where they were.

"C'mon!" Adam growled, smacking the radio. "Useless piece of equipment!" he smacked it again and it began to work. "Ah, finally!" he said, relieved. "Now I can establish contact with comma-"

BOOM! BOOM! The ground suddenly seemed to explode all around him and Wally as more shells fell from above. Wally threw himself against the side of the shell hole and covered his head with his hand, his backpack facing the interior of the shell hole. Another shell exploded on the ground above the shell hole and a second flew overhead and crashed somewhere. Wally covered his ears, trying to block out the deafening booms from the deadly projectiles.

Finally, after only a few seconds but an eternity to Wally, the shells stopped falling. A second passed before Wally gingerly raised his head from his position and looked around him, breathing breaths of relief, knowing how lucky he was to have survived that. But what about Adam?

"Argh!"

Wally looked down to the bottom of the shell hole and saw Adam lying down on the ground, the radio was lying next to him, torn in two by a large piece of shrapnel that seemed to have embedded itself into his stomach. Wally went wide-eyed and moved to over to him as quick as he could.

"Adam!" he said, overcome with shock. "Oh no!"

"I-I'm alright," he replied weakly, gasping a little as he talked and throwing his hand onto the side of his stomach. A small trail of blood began to seep from it. By the looks of it, the piece of shrapnel had driven deep into him.

Wally pushed the radio aside and pushed his hand down onto the wound, making Adam cry out loudly.

"Don't worry, Adam," Wally said, trying to calm him down. "You'll be alright. Soon you'll be in a warm hospital bed, bandaged and able to rest," Wally looked up towards the top of the shell hole and shouted: "Stretcher bearers!" though he doubted they would hear him over the noise of the battle, and even if they did; who was to say they would come? "Stretcher bearers!" he shouted again.

"Wally!" Adam gasped weakly. "L-lea-leave me! G-get out o-of here!"

"No!" Wally told him. "I'm not leaving you behind!"

But what could he do? Waiting here was dangerous just as much as it was in wasting time. There was a chance a few more shells would fall into this area and the stretcher bearers, even if they were on their way, would likely not reach them in time and get Adam back to the hospital.

The only alternative was to take him back himself. It was risky and would put himself in danger of being wounded or even killed, but if it was to save the life of his friend, it was worth the risk.

Wally grabbed Adam around the chest and, using all his strength as Adam, although being thin, was quite heavily built and was taller than him, hoisted him onto his back and, struggling and almost falling over a few times, climbed out of the shell hole into the wasteland and began to slowly amble across the war torn landscape back towards the British trenches.

"I'm surprised you can lift me up, Wally!" Adam said.

"It's my work on the farm back home," Wally replied grunting a little under the weight of his friend. "And also from when I saved you and Gomer," he added.

Adam gave small chuckle, but it was quickly replaced with a gasp of pain. Hearing this made Wally try and quicken his pace so he could save his friend.

After about thirty feet, Adam grunted a little and said to Wally: "Put me down," he said. "I'll try and walk,"

"No, Adam, you can't," Wally protested.

"No, I'll try," he insisted and Wally, sighing, slowly lowered his friend down onto the ground and, with Adam placing his arm on Wally and clamping down hard onto his shoulder, began to hop alongside Wally towards the German trenches. However, after only a few metres, the overwhelming pain from the wound on his stomach, Adam almost fell over and would have hit the ground were it not for Wally, who grabbed him the side and hoisted him up onto his feet.

"You can't walk, Adam," he said and, before Adam could protest, lifted him up onto his back and began to amble towards the British trenches, praying he would get there in time. A few shells flew overhead from the British lines and exploded in the shell hole where he and Adam had been moments earlier. Wally half-turned to look back at the shell hole, watching the dirt thrown up from the explosions fall back to the ground and breathed a sigh of relief.

_Lucky we left when we did _he mentally said to himself and continued on towards the British trenches.

**Five minutes later**

After struggling across No Man's Land with his wounded captain and through the trench system, looking for a small medical station in the trench, Wally finally found one, which was a small square shaped hole built into the side of the trench, in the rear trenches, a few tens of feet from the entrance to the trench system, and had set him down. A medic, who about thirty years old with blonde hair and green eyes and was dressed in an army uniform, which was stained with blood, and had a red army medical cross wrapped around the upper arm of the uniform on the medic's right arm, rushed over and helped set him down. As Wally sat down on the ground next to hole, breathing heavily as he was relieved of the weight of his friend after carrying him, the medic examined him and looked at Wally.

"You may as well 'ave saved yourself, mate," he said. "He's tone dead,"

Upon hearing those three words, Wally's head snapped up to look at the medic, his eyes filled with disbelief. What! Adam was dead? No! No, he was wrong!

"He can't be," Wally gasped a little, still exhausted from carrying him from No Man's Land, moved over to him, only to go wide-eyed when he saw his eyes closed and his mouth open slightly, but no breathing was coming out of it or going into it. He grabbed the back of his head, only to see blood on his hand. He withdrew, overwhelmed with shock.

"He was talking," Wally said as he stared down at his blood covered hand. "A few moments ago, he was…talking,"

"They can go real quick sometimes," the medic said and he got up and walked off to attend to other wounded soldiers.

Wally shook his head as he looked from his hand back at Adam's body. Just a few moments ago, he had been talking to Wally. Wally had heard him make a final breath, but…but he thought had passed out. Obviously, the real result had just revealed itself to him. He shook his head again, unable to comprehend the sudden death of his friend. However, if there one thing that did stick out in his mind was that Wendy, Adam's girlfriend, would soon receive a message about Adam within the next few days, one she had never hoped she would have to hear.

That was one more of his friends gone and, looking down at the ground; he began to wonder how many more would be gone before this was over.


	106. The cost of the Somme

**One month later**

**November 18****th**

By this time, the first signs of winter approaching were noticeable to pretty much everyone in the trenches. The temperature during the day and the night had dropped greatly to only a few degrees above freezing, a cold breeze blew through the air and even though it was a while before winter actually began; frost was starting to form over the mud and on the wood up and down the frontline. It was going to be another cold winter fir the men on the front and for some it could possibly be their last Christmas. Unlike the last two years, there was almost a complete feeling of certainty in the air that there was to be _no Christmas Truce_ like there had been before, all because of the events of the past year.

In the Somme sector of the Western Front, the trenches were all but quiet. A sense of unease hung in the air, caused by the men who were all but tired and frustrated over this continuous fighting. It just seemed like it would never end. They had been fighting to break through the German lines for months now and it had gotten them nowhere. However, there was a slight feeling of gratefulness in the air alongside the unease because although the aim to end the war early had not been achieved, the offensive on the Somme had finally come to an end. All of the continuous suffering and dying on both sides was finally over, but not over completely. Earlier on today, the High Command had decided to halt any further attacks on the German frontline and well…that was it. That marked the end of the long battle.

In a small trench a few miles east of Thiepval, Wally sat in one of the square shaped holes on the wall furthest from No Man's Land in the frontline trench. There was only enough room for one person, but he was not going to have to worry about someone else trying to find a place to sit down. There were only a few other men in the frontline trench, keeping watch over the great expanse of mud and shell holes and rubble and dead bodies. There were so few men because so many had died over the past four and a half months.

Wally was on his own in the trench system. Hans had been wounded a few days ago in the leg by a small piece of shrapnel and was still in hospital and Moe was needed elsewhere behind the front in…something to do with the wounded from a small counterattack by the Germans last night and they still had not been taken to the hospital. Adam…well, he had been dead a month now.

He could remember when he told the other two that he had been killed. They were just as shocked as he was. They could not believe that for two years, the man who had led them through the trench warfare and had been alongside them, the man who they had loathed at first and then come to respect as a friend; he was gone, but there was nothing they could do. The war was still going on and as much as they did not want to continue in it, especially after the death of their captain, they had to stay and continue the fight against the Germans.

Wally sighed and rested his head against the wooden wall behind him. This offensive had all been for nothing. Thousands of men on both sides of the front were lying dead and even more were wounded and mentally affected by the fighting here, and out of all the gains made by the British army, it was just a few miles, about somewhere between five to eight at the most.

He brought his legs up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on the top of his knees. So many lives had been wasted and in the end, the German line held and the war was going to continue on and lead to the deaths of many more men on both sides and bring tragedy and ruin to their families.

This war seemed just seemed to have no end to it at all.

**(Note: After four and a half months, the Battle of the Somme, one of the bloodiest in the First World War and in history, came to an end on November 18th. The total death toll was about 415,000 British and Commonwealth and 195,000 French and around 500,000 Germans, equalling to a total of around one million and the by the end of the battle, a maxiumum of about five to eight miles, around 13km, had been gained.) **


	107. How long for now?

**Six days later**

**November 24****th**

A cold night had descended over the Western Front, but it was a good one as well. The sky was completely clear of clouds and filled with hundreds of thousands of stars and a gentle breeze, though a cold one as well, blew through the air. The few remaining leaves on the almost completely bare trees rustled as they blew in the breeze. It was a peaceful scene in a peaceful area away from the war torn front.

In a small village, which was mostly ruins as it had been burned by the Germans in their retreat from Thiepval, and had also been badly damaged by shellfire from the British, a few miles behind the frontline, but about two miles east of Thiepval, a few soldiers of the British and Commonwealth relaxed in the village. A Canadian and a British soldier sat outside the remains of a house, smoking cigarettes. Outside the remains of a small shop was a group of British soldiers, with a few South African and Australian soldiers in the group as well, were talking to one another. Scattered about in and outside the village were several small groups of tents with large red crosses on the tops of them, signalling they were tents for the wounded. They had been set up here in the last few days of the battle of the Somme and were kind of a forward hospital position for the wounded.

Outside the village, near one of the groups of medical tents, Wally lay in the field, his backpack and rifle lying on the ground next to him. Next to him was Eve. It had been a while since they had last seen each other and Wally had told her everything that had happened. The disaster on the first day of the battle, the argument with his parents, the death of Adam and about what he had heard of the cost of the battle just under a week ago. Eve had told him about what had been happening at had home with her parents, as they had been struggling with the little work around, and had also told Wally of the amount of wounded and such that had come in through the offensive. Both listened to each other with a mixture of sadness and shock.

"God," Eve said when he was finished. "I can't believe all of that,"

"Right now, neither can I, Eve," Wally replied. He sat up and looked up at the star filled sky. "But I have to, even if I don't want to,"

Eve sat up and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid that's the way life is," she said to him. "It's like with my dad. When he died, I didn't want to believe it, but I had to,"

Wally nodded a little and turned his head to look at her. "I remember," he said, sighing and looking over in the direction of the front. "If only all of this would be over, Eve," he paused for a moment, the last few months replaying themselves over and over in his mind. "After the end of the Somme, Eve, I…I just really can't take being here anymore,"

"Neither can I," she replied. "I'm scared that the war will go on for a lot longer," she added, looking at Wally, who looked at her.

"So am I," he said.

Silence fell between the two for a moment, only being pierced by the talking from a group of soldiers on the edge of the nearby village, and also from the occasional chatter coming from the tents near them, which also emitted groaning every now and then, which made the two shudder at knowing that this person's groaning could be the last thing he did for when he fell silent., he might never make a noise again and end up being buried in the ground.

"How long d'you think the war will go on for now?" Eve asked Wally after a few seconds of silence between the two.

Wally thought for a moment. That question struck him like a sledgehammer. How long would the war continue for now? Another few months, or a year or another two years? He did not know, but then again, he doubted if anyone knew. If the British or French or German High Commands or the soldiers of these countries or the people or even the very leaders themselves of the countries knew how long the war would go on for. Did anyone know how long the war between Britain, France and Germany would go continue for? Certainly not. It would only come until one side cracked and right now, both sides were heading in that direction after this great battle, but Wally knew that once winter was over, they would be at each other's throats again and another great battle, or battles, would arise out of this again.

After a moment, Wally looked at Eve. "I don't know, Eve," he said. "But, I pray it won't go on for much longer. I just want it to end,"

Eve moved over next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't we all," she said. "Don't we all,"


	108. Wounded in action

**The next day**

**November 25****th**

In the British trenches, life seemed to have returned to the way it had been before the Battle of the Somme. Slowly, the number of men in the trenches was beginning to rise again and they were going about the daily duties they had been following before the battle. Several men were keeping watch over No Man's Land whilst others were relaxing and talking to each other or playing games of cards. It was as if they had forgotten the fact that just a week ago, the battle that had meant to break through the German line and put an end to the war had come to an inconclusive end with around one million dead, about half for both sides, and thousands more had been wounded and mentally affected. A bloody battle it was, but still the war went on and so, therefore, it was very likely not to be the last.

In the new British trenches to the east of Thiepval, Wally stood in the frontline trench, Moe and Hans with him. Wally was waiting for an officer to return with a group of soldiers as they were to go on a scouting mission on the German lines. A sigh passed his lips as he looked back across No man's Land for probably the hundredth time in the last few minutes, the beating of his heart going in a confused rhythm through fear as he knew he would going back into the danger zone once again in just a few moments.

"Wha' exactly are ya s'possed to do ou' there?" Moe asked him.

"Me and two others are to protect one of the soldiers whilst he scouts out their positions," Wally replied.

"Wonder where he is," Hans said.

"Probably lookin' for 'em," Moe answered, which Hans shrugged in slight agreement at.

As the three waited for the officer to return, Wally folded his arms on the mud just above the wooden wall of the trench and rested his head on top of them, looking out across the war torn landscape in front of him, thinking of this coming mission.

_Why were they still continuing this? _He had been asking himself that same question for the last few minutes now. Why were they still continuing these pointless missions when a great battle that had claimed the lives of around one million people had only just ended? This mission was likely to claim at least the life of one person, which, although may be absolutely nothing compared to the amount of people killed in the Battle of the Somme, it was still going to be a waste of life, just like everything in this war had been.

As Wally looked across No Man's Land, Moe and Hans, who were talking to each other, saw an officer of about sixty walking down a long section of trench a few feet to the left of them. Behind him were about three other soldiers. The first soldier of the three was tall and young, about nineteen years old with blonde hair, blue eyes and a rail thin body. His name was Michael. The second was shorter and looked slightly older, around about twenty, with red hair and green eyes and had a slight heavy build to his body. His name was Tim. The third and last soldier was about the same height of Wally with black hair, brown eyes and he had a small scar across his face from where a piece of shrapnel he had sustained earlier on in the month during the Battle of the Somme. He was also about twenty years old and had an athletic build to his body. His name was David. In his other hand was a pair of binoculars.

Hans tapped Wally on the shoulder. "'Ere they come, Wally," he said and Wally, groaning, stood up straight and turned to face the group as they approached.

"Ah, good, sorry to keep ya waitin'," the officer said as he came to a halt. "Right, now you lot ready?" he inquired.

Reluctantly, they all nodded. "Ah good," the officer replied a little cheerfully. He then looked at Hans and Moe as if he had finally noticed them being there. "You two par' of this as well?" he asked them.

"No, sir," Moe answered, shaking his head.

"Ya best get back then," the officer said and the two nodded and moved out of the way of the group as they stood in a line in the trench, their weapons at the ready for the upcoming mission.

"Stay safe, Wally," Hans said to him, patting him on the shoulder and giving him a friendly nod.

"Yeah, be careful ou' there," Moe added.

Wally smiled and nodded at his two friends. "Thanks," he replied.

"Right," the officer grunted, looking down at his pocket watch. "Shells should fall on the Boche in about…three…two…one-"

WHOOSH! BOOM! WHOOSH! BOOM!

All of a sudden, the air seemed to explode as a wave of mortar shells shot over the trench and landed on the other side of No Man's Land, throwing up huge clouds of dirt and rubble from the sectors of the trench where they landed. The group, along with about everyone else who was in the part of the trench they were in, watched the barrage. Wally swallowed hard, knowing that as soon as the barrage ended, he and the rest of the group would be launched over the top into the war torn landscape and exposed to the Germans.

Another shell missed by a few metres and landed in the middle of No Man's Land, creating another large shell hole. More explosions erupted from the German trenches and the sounds of screaming followed, signalling that a few unfortunate German soldiers had been caught in the blast radius of one of the shells.

Then, after only about one minute, the last of the shells stopped falling. As soon as it did, the officer announced: "Right, quick, over ya go lads!" and the four soldiers pulled themselves out of the trenches and ran across No Man's Land as fast as their legs would go. Their hearts were beating like drums against their chests, not just from the running, but also from the fear that the Germans could start firing on them at any moment.

Then, David, who was at the front of the group, dived into a shell hole that was just under half-way across No Man's Land. The others followed him, but just as they did, a burst of machine gun fire exploded into the air.

Wally gasped as he tumbled to the bottom of the shell hole and sat up. "Everyone alright?" he asked.

David, who was next to him, nodded. The other two fell down next to him. Michael groaned and rubbed his head as he sat up, but other than hitting his head he looked okay, but Tim did not reply.

"Is Tim alright?" David asked when he saw him still lying on the ground.

Michael turned over his body and saw that his eyes were closed. Across his chest were several bullet holes. Just as he was about to dive into the shell hole, the German machine gun had fired and, sadly, the bullets had gotten to him first, killing him instantly.

"Bugger!" David hissed. "Can't believe they got him that quick,"

"There's not anything we can do about it now," Michael said, sitting up, gently putting Tim's body on the ground. "We've got to spy on the German positions,"

The others nodded and moved over to the edge of the shell hole, Wally on one side of David and Michael on the other. The two had their weapons close, ready to use them when need be.

"Right, keep low you two," David said to them, which they replied with a nod, and, breathing in with his hands shaking a little, he rose up, though his head was only just above the line of the shell hole, and looked through the binoculars at the German lines.

Wally cocked his weapon to make sure it was ready if he needed to use it, but as he did so, a past memory replayed itself over in his mind. It was the night when he had been out in the No Man's Land before Thiepval and Franz, a long-time friend of him and his family, had run into the shell hole he was hiding in and Wally, through fear and surprise, had fired at him and killed him. He gritted his teeth in anger at himself, knowing very well that the act he had committed that night had resulted in him taking the life of someone else. It had made him feel sick beyond belief. Never before had he ever done something like that but it had just had to happen, even if he really, _really_ did not want it to.

"See anything that might be new?" Michael asked David, who shook his head and looked down at him.

"Nah," he replied. "A lot of machine gun nests but-"

Then, something landed on the ground near them. Wally yelped and slammed his hands over his head. David and Michael dived from where they sitting.

BOOM! It was grenade and it had landed in the shell hole near Michael and David, who had dived away from it as fast as they could. Wally gingerly rose his head from under his hands and looked around the hole, only to stop as his eyes rested on the bottom of it.

"Oooohh!" Michael was lying at the bottom of the hole with his hands clamped around his stomach, groaning loudly. His uniform and hands had blood on them. Next to him was David, who was lying dead on the ground on his side with his eyes wide open as if he was a statue, the grenade having killed him instantly. Wally moved over to Michael, putting his rifle down on the ground next to him.

"Oooohh! Bloody Hell!" Michael groaned in pain as a few tears caused by the pain started in his eyes. He just wanted to cry out, but it was so painful he could not.

"You'll be alright," Wally reassured him desperately.

He looked around them at the ground above. There was no point in continuing this mission, but now he was faced with a dilemma. He had to get Michael across No Man's Land and back to the British trenches without being killed or injured himself by the Germans. Something was easier said than done. If he tried to take him out of here, he was as good as dead.

But it would be something he would have to risk.

Being careful so as not to open Michaels' wound further, Wally scooped him up in his hands and, grunting a little, stood up, keeping his head low so as not to present himself as a target for the Germans.

"L-leave me here!" Michael gasped. "G-get your-s-self out!"

"Not without you," Wally replied.

He had gotten one hard part of his plan out of the way, now he had to get through the _really difficult_ part.

"I just hope the Germans know I'm trying to help someone who's wounded," he muttered to himself as he slowly, almost falling over a few times, pulled himself out of the hole, trying not to drop Michael.

As soon as he was out of the hole, Wally began to amble across No Man's Land back towards the British trenches. Even though he had not been fired on yet, he kept waiting for the bullet to slam into his back and kill him or injure him.

**At the German trenches  
**(Note: the italics are in German)

In one of the machine gun nests in the German trenches, two young German soldiers, both about eighteen years old and new arrivals to the front, watched as the young Englishmen struggled across No Man's Land back towards his trenches, carrying his wounded comrade. Even though he was an enemy to them, they just could not find it within themselves to fire on him. Maybe they just felt guilty as they were new, maybe because they were thinking someone else would get him. Whatever the reason; they did not fire on him.

_"What are you two idiots doing?" _a voice barked at them and the two looked down the trench to see a German officer of about thirty with a small black beard, black hair and blue eyes storm up to them, his eyes glittering with fury. _"Fire on him!"_

_"But, sir," _one of the soldiers stammered._"He's carrying a wounded man back to his trenches,"_

_"He's still an enemy to our Fatherland!" _the officer snarled. _"Now I order you to fire on him!" _

The two German soldiers looked at each other, filled with a struggle between their own conscience and the order of their superior officer. Were they to obey and fire on this English soldier, thus killing him and his comrade when he was just to save him, or were they to go against the order of their officer and not fire on the English soldier?

_"Nein!"_ one of the soldiers said, both looking up at the officer. _"We will not do it!"_

The officer gritted his teeth in anger at their reply. What! They were going to disobey him! _"Do you two want to be court-marshalled?" _he hissed. _"Because if you do not fire on him now, you will be!"_

_"So be it,"_ the two German soldiers replied calmly in unison.

The officer went wide-eyed with anger and looked back out across No Man's Land at the English soldier who was just metres from their trenches.

**At the British trenches**

"Quick, pass 'im 'ere!" a medic said as Wally handed Michael to him. The officer who had sent Wally and the group into No Man's Land and Moe and Hans helped.

"That was good of ya lad," the officer said to Wally.

He nodded. "Tha-AAAHHHH!"

Suddenly, he fell forward into the trench with a scream, his hand slamming around his side and chest. Hans and Moe grabbed him as he fell, saving him from smashing his face in or breaking his arm or leg.

"Wally!" Moe exclaimed.

The two turned him over to see his struggling for breath. Two bullet holes were visible in his uniform, one on his right side and the other in his chest, by the looks of it, right in the middle where…

"Oh no!" Hans said.

"Medic!" Moe shouted.

"Gizzim' 'ere!" the medic, who had put Michael onto a stretcher, from where he was taken into the long section of trench towards the rear trenches, said. He led Moe and Hans, who were carrying Wally, down into the long section of the trench toward the rear trenches. As they reached them, the two stretcher bears that had carried Michael off reappeared.

"What the?" one of them said, but the two quickly saw why they were here.

"Quick, we got another wounded man here," the medic said and the two stretcher bearers took Wally from Hans and Moe and placed him gently on the stretcher. Blood was beginning to stain his uniform and trail down from his side onto the stretcher.

"Is he gonna be alrigh'?" Hans asked them.

"I dunno, mate," one of the stretcher bearers replied. "We'll try and get 'im to the hospital as quick as we can," and the two lifted up the stretcher and carried into left into the next section of trench and out of sight.

Hans and Moe watched them go, filled with worry. They looked at each other, the same question lingering in their eyes: _Was he going to be alright? _

**Author note**

**I would just like to say Merry Christmas to all who read this chapter. **


	109. The question answered

**Ten minutes later**

In the village about two miles behind the frontline, the medics were busy at work with the wounded and the sick. Because the village had been abandoned when the Germans invaded France two years ago and that they had set up a small medical post around the village, they made use of the few buildings that still stood, using them as places to carry out the medical procedures to heal the wounded. It was not much than the hospitals behind the previous British frontline, but the doctors, nurses and medics here would have to make do with what they had here.

At one of the houses, which had part of It's a side cave in as the result from a shell hitting the roof earlier on in the year in July just after the Battle of the Somme began, Eve emerged. Her apron was bloody from having help carry the wounded from the trucks to the house, or to the other houses in the village that were being used to treat the wounded. She walked over to a bucket of water placed on the ground below a smashed window and placed her hands in it, wiping off the blood. It had not been very busy, apart from about one truck full of wounded brought in from a shelling attack by the Germans further down the line.

_Hope it starts to calm down a bit now winter's coming _she thought as he dried her hands on a damp towel placed on the ground next to the bucket.

As she put the towel back on the ground and turned to walk back into the house, she caught sight of a truck approaching across the fields from the direction of the British frontline. Eve grimaced a little.

"Here we again!" she said to herself, not really looking forward to the wounds these men were going to have to see.

The truck came to a halt at the end of the road and the driver and two medics in the back jumped out. They were talking quickly to each other as if they were in a rush. Though they were a few tens of metres away, Eve could hear then quite clearly.

"C'mon, quick, pass 'im here!"

"One of you go grab a doctor and tell him we got a badly wounded one 'ere,"

The driver ran off towards one of the groups of tents outside the village. Eve's attention, however, was focused on the two medics as they carried a man on a stretcher off the back of the truck.

"Must be a real bad one," she muttered as they came rushing towards her.

She walked towards the entrance to the house but stopped to allow the two medics to pass through with the wounded soldier.

"Thank you," the medic nearest Eve said to her.

She nodded and gave a small smile, but when the two medics passed her with the man and he was in full sight of him, she gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with shock and disbelief. No! It could not be! It was not! No!

It was Wally she had just seen go by.

She rushed in after the medics and saw them set him down on a table on the right edge of a large square shaped room which was mostly bare of anything you would normally expect to find a family home, save for the table, a few chairs, a small fireplace, which was partially destroyed, and a few potted plants, though they had most been tipped over. A doorway on the left wall led into another room where the men would be treated for their wounds.

"We'll get the rest," one of the medics said to her as they passed. "And a doctor's on his way 'ere,"

Eve nodded and they ran back outside, leaving her and Wally alone. She rushed over to him and rested her hand on his face. As she did, he stirred slightly and groggily, and weakly, opened his eyes to look at her.

"E…E…Eve," he said, raising his hand to rest on hers.

She sniffed, trying desperately to hold back her tears, and kneeled down next to him. "What happened?" she asked sadly.

"I got…I got shot," he took a deep breath, finding it hard to breathe. He gave a light cough and groaned a little from the pain. "I…s-saved a…f-f-friend and…got shot…when….I reached….our trenches,"

He began to breathe a little deeper now, the pain from the areas where he had been hit overwhelming him like water against a rock. It hurt like Hell. He just wanted it to go away, but it might do soon, only would he be gone with it?

That was what Eve feared the most. She leaned forward a little and looked at his bullet wounds on his chest and his side. Upon seeing them, she lost the strength to hold back her tears and she began to cry. It was as if she knew already.

He slowly brought up his hand to her cheek and rested it against her. She placed her hand on it and looked down at him with her tear soaked eyes.

"Wally," she said weakly.

He gave another cough. "D-don't worry…, Eve," he said. "I-I'll…b-b-be…o-o-k-kay,"

She sniffed and nodded, wiping away tears from her eyes. "I love you," she said before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips. He smiled when she did that and tried to reply but he coughed a few times and rested his hand on his chest. Instead, he lowered his hand and took hers in his, holding it as if he was saying he loved her through another way.

"Here he is, sir," a voice said from the doorway and Eve looked over her shoulder to see two doctors, a third man she presumed to be one of the medics that brought Wally in running off back to the truck, walk over to them. One of them examined Wally whilst the other rested his hands on her shoulders.

"We'll have to take him into the next room to operate on him, Eve," he said to her.

She gasped a little as she cried and nodded. Just as she was about to stand up, Wally squeezed her hand one more time and muttered, loud enough for Eve to hear: "I love you too, Eve," making her cry even more. She let go of his hand and the doctors picked him up and took him into the next room, Eve watching them go and looking at Wally once more.

When they had disappeared into the next room, Eve broke down and collapsed onto her knees and she rested her arms on the table and placed her head on them, sobbing quietly. The talk she had had with Wally the night before came back into her mind. They had talked about how much longer the war would go on for them.

It was clear she knew what was going to happen to him now. The answer to their question almost certainly to be answered today.


	110. Gone but never forgotten

**Sixty years later**

**Date: November 11****th****, 1976**

**Ypres, Belgium**

Ypres. The city in the north of Belgium that has seen much history throughout the last few hundred years. Once a market town, it grew into a large community of several thousand, mostly attracted by the large museum, the scenery of the great expanse of green field that surrounded it and the fact it was a great little village to come for a holiday.

It had been hit again by war when the town was taken over by the Germans in 1940 and was visited by the leader of Germany, Adolf Hitler, twice over the time the country was occupied until the Germans were driven out in 1944 and since then it had become a great tourist attraction for most of Europe, even before the Second World War.

However, it had become a tourist attraction for another reason.

In the town and in the fields for miles around it were many war memorials and cemeteries, but not to the Second World War. These were to the men who had fought here before the Second World War, in the Great War when the armies of the Allies and Germany were locked in a deadly battle for control of the town and the surrounding area. All the way from 1914 to around about the summer of 1918, the battle raged until the Germans were finally driven back all along the Western Front back to Germany, at a cost of hundreds of thousands of lives to both sides.

And today was a day when they were to remember the fallen everywhere. Not just at Ypres, or the Somme or Verdun or just the Western Front, but in Gallipoli, Africa, the Middle East, Eastern Europe and all the other places from where the war had engulfed nations into it.

Today was Remembrance Day, November 11th, exactly, the fifty eighth anniversary of the end of the war.

In Ypres, there was a large building situated just down the road from the enormous museum called Menin Gate. It was much like the Arc De Triumph in Paris, France, but not as tall and was more of a lighter cream/pale white-like colour. The road ran through the middle of it to the rest of the village on the other side of it. Two small pathways came off the middle of the road, one either side, and they led to a row of steps that led up to a wall with a kind of half circular cave in them from where many poppy wreaths and flowers, most with messages, all thanking the men for their sacrifice and hoping they would rest in peace. Another row of steps, either side of each of the walls led up to a kind of small field at the top from which people could reach the outer parts of the side of Menin Gate. From there, they could read, as they could in the interior walls and on the four large stone columns, two at each end of Menin Gate, the names of around fifty thousand men who were missing in action throughout the whole of the Ypres campaign.

Gathered inside the great monument, on the four pavements between the paths and roads and in the roads and pavements around the monument, a large crowd of several hundred people had gathered for the ceremony. It was a good day for it, despite it being the middle of November, usually the time of year when the weather begins to turn bad. The sun was shining in the mostly clear sky, but large clouds were dotted about around it. It was quite cold as well so most people had their coats and jackets on to keep them warm.

Suddenly, a deafening ring filled the air and at once, the crowd, which had been talking and chatting, went silent as if the noise of this area had been muted. The ring echoed on throughout the air, followed by another and then a final ring. As soon as the ringing stopped, everyone's attention focused on the four men, all in their forties/fifties, and were dressed in dark cream coloured trousers with black army vests on them. On their heads were army officer hats and in their hands they held a small trumpet.

Upon the end of the noise, the men raised the end of the trumpets to their lips and began to play a famous tune. The Last Post.

The noise seemed to fill the air inside and out of the Menin Gate as if the entire town was locked in some kind of vacuum. A feeling of peace seemed to descend onto the crowd as many listened and watched them, none of them making a sound. A few there were holding cameras to film this ceremony.

As the Last post reached the middle of the tune, it just seemed to make the place more poignant. Among the crowd, there were many people in their forties, early fifties. Many of them had been in war before, the Second World War and this ceremony was to remember their fallen brothers who had died in the liberation of Europe from the tide of evil that had engulfed Germany and, eventually, much of Europe. It was literally a fight between good and evil and in the end, with many sacrifices on both sides, the Allies, then made up Britain and It's Commonwealth, France, America, Russia, Poland, Holland, Belgium, Norway, Denmark, Czechoslovakia and many other countries in Europe that had fallen to the German onslaught during the war, had triumphed and defeated the Nazis.

For about a minute, the tune lasted until, with a final high pitched note, the men lowered the trumpets from their lips and stood at attention as if they were in front of an army commander. A middle aged Englishman of about forty five with a bald head and dressed in a kind of black and white robe emerged from the entrance to the stairs on the left side of Menin Gate and walked into the middle of the road, stopping there. He cleared his throat and began to speak to the crowd.

"Today, we honour the fallen men who had died in the service of their country to ensure that their families, friends and those within their country would have the freedom and rights they are entitled to today," he said. "Now, an orchestra group are going to perform a song version of the poem _In Flanders Field _written by John Alexander McCrae during the Great War in 1915,"

**(Note: I do not own the poem **_**In Flanders Field**_**, it is rightfully owned by John McCrae. For those of you who do not know, John McCrae was a Canadian soldier who had served in the Great War in Ypres and had written the poem **_**In Flanders Field **_**in 1915 after witnessing the death of his friend. He lived through to 1918, but tragically died of pneumonia on January 28****th**** of that year, so his poem in this story is dedicated to him.)**

The man walked back into the path and a small group of about twenty people, all dressed in white and red robes, walked out of the path entrance on the right side of the monument and formed a small group in a half circular space roped off from the crowd. One of them was a small boy of about twelve. The rest were people in their late twenties/early thirties. In the roped off space were several books, each turned onto the page of the reciting of the poem, resting atop the small metal book holders, each one having a small microphone sticking out of the top of it and pointed towards them. The adults took up the space behind the boy, who was standing at the front, with two rows of four and then behind each of them a row of five. The last man, who was older, in his early forties and was holding an orchestra stick, stood in front of the group, raised his hands in front of him and began start the rhythm of the song. The young boy cleared his throat and began to sing.

"_In Flanders Field, The Poppies blow,"_

_"Between the crosses, row on row,"_

The song filled the air, seeming to silence everything else around Menin Gate as if it too was pausing to remember those who had died here so long ago in a war that was one of the bloodiest and most psychologically affecting in Human history. Several bowed their heads to remember them as the song continued.

"_That mark our place, and in the sky,"_

_"The larks, still bravely singing, fly,"_

_"Scarce heard amid the guns below,"_

When the boy finished the last line of the first verse of the poem, the rest of the orchestra behind him began to sing the second verse. By now, several people within the crowd were wiping their eyes with their hands or using their tissues they had brought with them.

_"We are the Dead. Short days ago,"_

_"We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,"_

_"Loved and were loved, and now we lie,"_

_"In Flanders Field,"_

The poignancy of the song seemed to stretch out in all directions. Many of the older people within the crowd had their eyes closed and were looking down towards the ground, taking the moment to remember their comrades, their friends, their brothers, their sons and their fathers who had fought in the Great War, the Second World War, Korea and all other wars since the end of the Great War. Not just from Britain, but from all the Allied countries since then.

The young boy at the front of the orchestra joined in with the rest as they began to sing the final verse of the poem.

_"Take up our quarrel with the foe,"_

_"To you from failing hands, we throw,"_

_"The torch; be yours to hold it high,"_

_"If ye break faith with us who die,"_

_"We shall not sleep, though poppies grow,"_

_"In Flanders Field,"_

Those who had died here, the Western Front and all over the world fighting against evil, including the Germans, who in the Great War had died for freedom of their country, they would never sleep, nor would ever be forgotten, even when the last man who had fought in the trenches passed on from this life.

As the orchestra finished, a round of applause suddenly broke out from the crowd and very quickly it had spread to those outside as well as inside. A perfect performance in remembrance to those who had died in the Great War.

When the applause died down, one of the elderly men, a man in his late seventies and was dressed in his army remembrance uniform, walked forward into the middle of the road and stopped and began to speak the Ode of Remembrance, a poem from 1914 published just after the battle on the mainland continent had begun.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old," he said. "Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them,"

"_We will remember them," _those four words repeated themselves throughout the crowd, knowing that they would never forget those who had died in service of their country in order to save it and their people from tyranny and evil from both sides.

Then, those with poppy wreaths began to, one at a time, walk towards the small cave-like holes in the sides of the walls at the tops of the steps and set down their wreaths, each one a gift of remembrance to those who had fallen.

**One hour later**

**Tyne cot cemetery, outside Ypres, near ****Passchendaele **

Tyne Cot cemetery is the largest British and Commonwealth cemetery in the world. Situated outside the town of Ypres and near the village of Passchendaele, it sits on the very ground where the fighting during the third Battle of Ypres had taken place. The name of the cemetery comes from the Northumberland Fusiliers as it had a resemblance between two German pillboxes, both of which can be seen within the cemetery, and the normal Tyneside cottages back in Britain.

Unveiled in 1927, the cemetery has a large half circular shaped wall at the back of it with two small square shaped buildings, with two large arch shaped doorways on them, one at each end of the circular shaped wall, and coming out of them was another, much smaller half circular shaped wall, though this time, the bends were facing towards the sides of the cemetery rather than towards the back of it. In front of it were many graves, a sea of graves, each one marking the place of rest from a fallen soldier. A large single grass path ran between them from the entrance to the cemetery to the large cross on top of a step plinth, on top of one of the German concrete pillboxes, in the middle of the cemetery and smaller grass paths led off from the sides and through the groups of graves, which were all placed in lines, some in half circular shapes further towards the back of the cemetery. Just a few meters behind the large cross on the pillbox was a large stone monument that looked like a giant grave with the words: _Their name liveth forever more _written on the sides. The entire place was surrounded by a stone wall with a kind of large gate at the front of the cemetery which did resemble the entrance to a castle. The total number of graves in the cemetery was about twelve and a half thousand, a mixture of British, Australian, Canadian, Indian, South African and New Zealander. Along the walls at the back of the cemetery were the names of around thirty five thousands others who were missing in action or had died during the third Battle of Ypres, especially in the taking of Passchendaele, but had no known grave. The main road from Ypres ran past the cemetery and a smaller road led off it pass the entrance towards a few buildings just outside it and next to them was a car park.

The cemetery was mostly quiet, apart from a few tens of people scattered about in the cemetery. Some were going along reading the names of the graves; others were walking about and taking pictures of the vast place. On the stone steps around the grave, only about two as they were very big ones, were several poppy wreaths laid by some of the people in the cemetery.

A few more people were arriving from the remembrance ceremony in Ypres now. Among them was a group of four people. One of them was an old man of about 79 and was dressed in grey trousers, a white top and a brown jacket with black shoes on. His hair was grey and thinning in some places and he had a small scar under his chin and blue eyes. Next to him was his wife. She was dressed in a cream skirt with a kind of multi-coloured shirt underneath and a kind of dark cream coloured coat. Her hair was grey and quite straight and she had blue eyes that were lighter than they had been a long time ago. With them were two younger people in their late thirties, a man and a woman. The man was about thirty nine and was dressed in blue jeans with purple top, black shoes and a black jacket over him. He had brown hair and blue eyes. The woman was about thirty five with light blonde hair, blue eyes and a pretty face. She was wearing blue jeans, a kind of light purple coloured top and small white slip on shoes. Their children were back in Ypres with the mother's sister, sightseeing around the town.

As the four made their way up the grass path, a feeling of peace overwhelmed them. That was usually the feeling people got when they entered a cemetery, especially if it was one on this size and was dedicated to men that were decades younger, many only in their early twenties, some not even that. It was a very poignant place to be.

The old man gazed around the graveyard, taking in the scenery of what had once been a former war torn landscape. He knew it because he had witnessed it before. All of the mud and the trenches zigzagging across the land with large shell holes and dead bodies and devastation of villages and farmhouses and such. All of it he remembered very well.

As they reached the end of the path, the old man turned off left down a smaller grass path that went past another line of graves. His wife and his son and his wife stopped and watched him go. He stopped in front of a grave and looked down at it, reading what was on it.

_Hal Aston Burtt Age 19 _

_September 30__th__, 1917_

_Dover regiment_

Below the writing at the top of the grave was a large cross engraved into the grave. At the bottom of the grave were two more lines of writing.

_Died in the service of his country. _

_Rest in Peace_

Upon reading it, the old man collapsed onto his knees and began to sob. His wife rushed over to him, the son and his wife bringing up the rear.

"Dad," the son said as they reached him.

His wife rested a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"Is he going to be okay?" the son's wife asked.

The old woman nodded. "He'll be fine," she replied. "I'll talk to him,"

The son nodded. "C'mon, Bethany," he said. "Let's leave them alone," and they walked away back up the path, looking over their shoulders back at him with concerned looks.

The wife knelt down on the ground next to her husband, gently patting his shoulder to comfort him. The husband knew this person whose grave he was sobbing over very well.

It was his brother. He was Wallace Burtt. His wife was Evelyn Knight.

"Wallace," she said softly.

He lifted his head up and sniffed loudly, wiping his eyes clear of his tears.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You don't need to be," she replied. "He's your brother,"

"I just wish he was still here with me,"

Eve lowered her hand onto his, gently placing her fingers between his. "I'm sure he is,"

Wally gave little nod and looked at the grave again. He still remembered when he had close to death. When he had been shot on the Somme all those years ago. He been really lucky. The bullet on the side was not very serious as it did not penetrate very far and the one that had struck him in the chest had somehow gone right between his heart and his lung by inches. It was lucky, very lucky. It took him a long time to recover and when he had done, he was sent home to England to work in the agricultural part of the army to help Britain eradicate It's food shortage problem caused by German U-boats sinking ships bringing in food from the Commonwealth territories. It was during this time he learned time that Hal had died and it was one of the last times he went home again, him and his parents absolutely devastated by him dying.

When the end of the war finally came, he reunited with Eve in her home village and stayed there with her and her mother to help them, learning how to speak French as he did. As for his parents, he did keep in touch with them, but he barely went back home, thinking it was too painful for him to go back there after what had happened on his convalescent leave. He just felt it was best not to go back. And for Moe and Hans, he did meet up with them again not long after the end of the Second World War during a coach trip. Both were married and had children of their own. They had all lived through what was perhaps the most dangerous parts of their lives, but thousands, no…millions more…they had not.

After the end of the war, the rise of the Nazis in Germany did strike fear into them for what they were doing and they did have a feeling that war would eventually be coming back to Europe. This had led them to flee back to Britain, and it was just in time because two years after, Nazi Germany invaded and took over France, along with Belgium, Holland and Luxembourg. They spent the last five years in Britain, during which both of Wally's parents had died. They remained in the country until Hitler and his Third Reich were defeated and they returned home and raised their son from there and well that was it. They have lived the last thirty odd years here with happy and sometimes hard parts in their lives but they had coped.

Wally, however, had never forgotten his friends. Robert, Aiden, William, who he learned had died of his wounds in hospital, or Adam. He always remembered them, especially his brother. He and him had gone into this together. If only they could have left it together.

He always did wonder a lot after the Great War if their sacrifice had been worth. If the between ten to sixteen million lives killed during the war had been worth it. For a very long time, he thought no, it had not been worth it, even when the Second World War had come, he had still not changed that even though Britain had not wanted to go to war in 1939 like they had done in 1914. They were forced to go into the Second World War. It was only by luck, courage and the fact that for almost a year they were the only thing standing between Hitler and him achieving his dreams of world domination that they had held out until Russia and eventually America, who had also joined the Great War in 1917, just after Russia had withdrawn because of a revolution that overthrew the Tsar, had joined that Europe was freed and Nazi Germany was defeated. He still kept to believing that World War One had not been worth it until when he had come here on that coach trip with Hans and Moe and other veterans. It was then he had learned that even though the Cold War was heating up around them and the threat of nuclear annihilation was forever looming over the world, and still was today but had simmered down much by now, that he had realised that their sacrifice had been worth it.

It had been worth it because they had showed everyone that war was not a lovely little game or a glorious adventure as it had been portrayed in 1914. It was a meaningless slaughter of people fighting people, people of the same race as them, just with different cultures and languages and ways of life. They were still people and in the Great War, they had _all _been fighting for freedom. All of the soldiers from Britain and It's Commonwealth, France and It's colonies, Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, the Ottoman Empire, Serbia, America, Romania, Bulgaria, Greece…all of them had been fighting to ensure the freedom of others.

After a moment, Wally stood up, looking down at his brother's grave. Eve stood up with him.

"I just wish he could have come home, Eve," he said. "He did not deserve this,"

"No one in the war did, Wally," she replied. She looked around them to see the sun shining brightly down onto the cemetery. This place had been made on the blood of soldiers from both sides. Today, they were going to be with their future loved ones. She was certain Hal with them now.

After a few moments, Eve placed her other below his hand from which she was holding.

"I'll leave you with him for a moment," she said quietly, kissing his hand and walking away back down the path to meet up with her son and his wife, leaving Wally alone.

For a moment, Wally just looked down at the grave of his brother, thinking of all their past memories. Then, he stood at attention and gave a salute to him, honouring him as a fallen hero in an inhuman war.

"Take care of yourself, Hal," he said, lowering his hand. "I'll see you soon one day. Say hello to mother and father for me," and he turned and walked back up the path, looking up at the large cross atop the concrete pillbox in the middle of the cemetery.

His brother and his friends, along with everyone else who had died in the war. All of them were gone, but they would never be forgotten.

**.Wallace Burtt lived on with his wife Evelyn Knight and his son Harry in Ruesnes, France. He barely spoke of the war to anyone, apart from between him and his wife and those he had met on the coach trip to France. He died in 1992 at the age of ninety five. He was awarded the British War Medal at his funeral. **

**.Evelyn Knight lived happily with Wallace Burtt and her son in Ruesnes. She comforted him after the death of his parents and he returned the favour when her mother died in 1956. She gave birth to their son in 1937 in Britain just before they fled to Britain to escape France before it was invaded. She died in 1994 at the age of ninety seven. **

**.Moe Harrison went to continue working as a carpenter in London after the end of the Great War. He married his wife, Elisa, in 1932 and they had two children, a daughter born in 1936 and a son born in 1945. He died in 1989 at the age of ninety three.**

**.Hans Gibbs joined the merchant navy after the Great War. Whilst on a trip to Canada, he met Michelle, who he later married in 1928. They had one child, a daughter named Jessica, born in 1934. He died in 1992 at the age of ninety four.**

**.After the injury of his brother, Hal Aston Burtt went on convalescent leave to see him and his parents in early 1917. He did not know of the argument between Wally and his parents. On September 30****th****of that year, he was shot dead by a German sniper whilst advancing across No Man's Land during a trench attack.**

**Author notes**

**First of all, I would like to thank everyone who had read this story since It's beginning almost a year ago now. It has been a very tiring work, but in the end worth it.**

**Secondly, many of you may wonder how I was inspired to write this Fanfic. Well, in October of last year, me and my dad had gone to Ypres to visit the many cemeteries and Menin Gate to watch the ceremony held there every night at eight o'clock. I found it to be an amazing trip, probably the best I have ever been on, and we had visited Tyne Cot and I found the experience very moving at actually knowing that for a village much smaller back in 1917 than it is now, and also one that was literally blown to pieces by the fighting, thousands of men had died in trying to claim it. If anyone does plan on going to the trenches, I would recommend it for it will be worth it.**

**My third and final note is that I would like to personally dedicate this Fanfic to all soldiers that were lost in WW1, WW2, Korea and all other wars since then for were it not for their sacrifice, we would not have the freedom and rights we are entitled to today. Also, this is to be dedicated who have and still are fighting for the freedom of others today.**


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